


Let the Brokenness Be Felt

by AndiinaRaethTash



Series: Young Enough to Try (To Build a Better Life) [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, BAMF Anakin Skywalker, BAMF Ezra Bridger, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ezra Bridger Needs a Hug, F/M, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Human Disaster Kanan Jarrus, Hurt/Comfort, Loads of Medical Poodoo I Found on Google, Time Travel, Torture, not too graphic though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 90,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiinaRaethTash/pseuds/AndiinaRaethTash
Summary: "Our nights have grown so long.Now we beg for sound advice.Let the brokenness be felt'Til you reach the other side.There is goodness in the heartOf every broken manWho comes right up to the edgeOf losing everything he has."With the end of the war rapidly approaching, the Jedi find themselves facing threat after threat. Meanwhile, the time travelers finally find themselves face-to-face...
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, C1-10P | Chopper & Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios & Hera Syndulla & Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger & Ahsoka Tano, Ezra Bridger & Anakin Skywalker, Ezra Bridger & CT-7567 | Rex, Ezra Bridger & Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Ezra Bridger & Hera Syndulla, Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Ezra Bridger & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ezra Bridger & Sabine Wren, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios & Hera Syndulla, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios & Sabine Wren, Kanan Jarrus & Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Kanan Jarrus & Sabine Wren, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Asajj Ventress, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Young Enough to Try (To Build a Better Life) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1465357
Comments: 346
Kudos: 512





	1. We Pull Apart the Darkness While We Can

**Author's Note:**

> Tada! I totally lied, I knew I was going to start posting this week. You're welcome.

Obi-Wan had to admit, this was not his smartest decision. Ignoring the summons of the Council to come back to Coruscant—and bring his new Padawan with him—and leaving Ezra behind had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, as he was thrown into the crates by an enraged Zabrak, he was really regretting that choice.

“And they call you _Master,”_ Maul sneered.

Obi-Wan had to suppress a groan as he pushed himself up on his elbows. “You know, when I cut you in half, I should have aimed for your neck instead.”

That elicited a growl from Savage, who lunged forward, grabbed Obi-Wan by the leg, and threw him across the cargo hold to land at Maul’s feet. He grunted as his back came into contact with the unforgiving metal floor, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

Maul looked down at him, cracking his neck, then exchanged a look with Savage. This had definitely been a mistake. Ashla hadn’t been kidding when she’d said they were even stronger together than they were apart. If had been just Maul, maybe, maybe he could have taken him, but with his brother? It was impossible. Wracking his brain, he tried to remember how Ashla had said he’d gotten out of it but couldn’t.

Savage kicked him as he walked past into the cockpit, leaving him alone with Maul, who leered at him, teeth bared in a sick parody of a smile as Obi-Wan rolled over onto his stomach. “Anything more to say?” Maul asked as the ship shook from the engines firing up.

As the ship lifted off, Obi-Wan pushed himself up and looked over his shoulder at the Zabrak. “I like your new legs. They make you look taller.” Mentally, he cursed himself for saying the first thing that came to mind and risking Maul’s further wrath, but honestly, at this point diplomacy was out the window. No point holding back now.

Maul growled as he grabbed Obi-Wan with the Force and lifted him, taking hold of his face with his hand once he was close enough. Maul’s red blade sprang to life in his face, and Obi-Wan pressed back against the hilt, trying to get it away from him.

Maul didn’t seem to notice. “I will make sure you stay awake long enough to feel every single cut. Your death will be beyond excruciating, you will suffer as I have suffered…”

Savage walked back into the cargo bay, and Obi-Wan tensed even further. He couldn’t see the other Sith, but he knew he was there, and he was bracing for a blow from behind when an unexpected voice called from the upper level of the hold, “What a surprise!”

Maul dropped him and spun around. Obi-Wan fell to the floor with a soft grunt as Ventress continued, “My former servant, still an animal. And you have a friend now!”

At that point, Obi-Wan passed out, too hurt and exhausted to stay conscious any longer. When he woke up, though, it wasn’t Ventress in his face, but Ezra, looking both angry and concerned.

“Obi-Wan? Thank the Force, we need you up and about, now.”

Groaning, Obi-Wan pressed a hand to his forehead. “Ezra? How—I thought Ventress was the one here.”

“I am,” Ventress purred as she dropped to the floor beside them, offering a hand to Obi-Wan. He surprised himself by accepting it, letting ehr haul him up to his feet. “I just let this little tag-along join in on the rescue. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Obi-Wan spared a second to roll his eyes as Ventress tossed him one of her lightsabers. “My deepest gratitude,” he snarked, then turned to Ezra. “And don’t think you won’t be hearing about this later, Lieutenant.”

Ezra just snorted and pulled something off his belt. “Looking forward to it,” He said as a blue blade sprang to life in his hand.

Obi-Wan gaped at him. That wasn’t Obi-Wan’s own blade, it was a new one—one that, he realized, had been hanging off of Ezra’s belt in pieces literally the entire time he’d known the boy. “Ezra…”

“Later. Sith now,” Ezra said shortly, falling into the opening stance of Form Four. Obi-Wan stared for a second longer before being startled out of his daze by Savage’s voice coming from the upper level.

“The witch, and two Jedi.”

Immediately, Obi-Wan ignited his borrowed blade, stepping back so that he, Ventress, and Ezra were standing back-to-back in a circle.

Form the opposite side of the upper level, Maul snarled, “Ours for the taking,” and just like that, the battle had begun.

Maul launched himself at Obi-Wan, their matching blades sparking against each other as Maul attacked aggressively. Obi-Wan fell back into his preferred Form Three, fending off almost every blow, although it was difficult.

Maul was good, there was no denying that. He swiped at Obi-Wan’s head, making him duck and stumble backwards, then swiped again, forcing Obi-Wan back another step. He tried to get his lightsaber up in time, but he was slow and wounded. He saw the red blade coming for his head and braced himself for pain.

Right before the ‘saber hit, a blue blur threw itself between Obi-Wan and Maul, forcing the Sith to take a step back or get himself cut in two again. Ezra stood between the two, his posture screaming of rage, and Maul had the sense to momentarily be taken aback. He got over it quickly, though, baring his teeth in a clear show of aggression.

Ezra didn’t back down. Instead, he threw himself forward, jumping off a nearby crate to deliver a powerful overhead strike. Maul blocked it and Ezra landed in a crouch, sweeping at Maul’s legs with his blade.

Obi-Wan was about to leap in to aid him when Ventress cried out in pain. He turned to see that Savage had thrown her across the cargo bay and she was now weaponless. Glancing at his ‘saber still firmly attached to Maul’s belt, he made a split second decision.

“Ventress, catch!” He called as he threw her ‘saber up into the air before diving toward Maul. Rolling under Maul’s arcing blade—he and Ezra were trading blows at a pace Obi-Wan could barely follow—he leapt up and flipped over Maul’s back, grabbing his lightsaber as he did and shoving Maul to the side with the Force.

He landed on top of several crates, putting him just high enough to be able to comfortably jump onto the upper level of the cargo bay without the Force. Below him, Maul growled and followed, covering the distance in one great leap.

Ezra was on his heels, attacking his back furiously and managing to make Maul annoyed as he tried to stalk closer to Obi-Wan, who was able to fend him off for a few seconds before Ezra scored a hit on Maul’s upper arm and succeeded in drawing his attention.

Obi-Wan took a moment to pause and assess the situation. Ventress had her second lightsaber back and was now able to fend off Savage with… well, not with ease, but she certainly was having an easier time of it.

Ezra was keeping Maul distracted for the time being, but Obi-Wan was getting worried about him. His strikes were too powerful, too fast, too aggressive for him not to be channeling his anger somewhat. Idly, Obi-Wan wondered if his rage was because of Maul or because of what happened to Charger, but it didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was dangerous if he was letting it control him.

The momentary reprieve ended when Savage threw Ventress to the side, temporarily stunning her and Obi-Wan was forced to intervene, jumping down and blocking the blow that otherwise would have taken her head off. Savage growled and backhanded him across the face, sending him stumbling back a step, dizzy.

Ventress took the opportunity to slash at Savage’s feet, making him jump up to avoid her blades, and Obi-Wan straightened before charging him in an uncharacteristically aggressive move. Savage quickly parried the blow, attacking with even more anger and less caution.

It was his last mistake. Ventress sprang up behind him, and when he whirled around to face her, Obi-Wan caught his blade. Without the ability to block or attack, Savage was left open to Ventress’s spinning attack, which took his head clean off.

Maul’s howl of rage drew their attention to the duel going on above them, which Maul ended by throwing Ezra backwards off the walkway, following seconds behind in a massive leap that brought him down on Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan rolled out of the way, and Maul turned to attack him again only to be thrown off balance by a kick to the side from Ezra, who was getting up as fast as he could.

Ventress smirked as she kicked Savage’s head, which came to rest at Maul’s feet. “Oh, dear. I wonder if Mother Talzin will be able to give him a new head.”

With a scream, Maul called Savage’s fallen ‘saber to his hand and attacked, this time going for Ventress. Obi-Wan quickly jumped in to help, fending off blows that otherwise would have blindsided her. Ezra attacked from behind, meriting little more than a scowl and the occasional parry.

Maul suddenly tensed, then sprang forward, whirling the ‘sabers around him in a deadly red circle. Obi-Wan and Ventress jumped back; Ezra jumped forward. He used the Force to grab hold of Maul’s ‘saber and slow its arc, coming down to slice the hilt in two just below the emitter. Maul responded quickly, swiping at Ezra and forcing him back a step.

Obi-Wan lunged forward, blocking a stroke that otherwise would have caught Ezra in the side, and Ezra darted forward. For a moment, Obi-Wan thought he was going to behead the Zabrak, but instead the tip of his ‘saber sliced across his eyes.

An unearthly shriek made Obi-Wan stumble back, dropping his lightsaber and clapping his hands over his ears as the sound echoed through the large room. Ventress looked similarly stunned; Ezra was caught in a backhanded blow as Maul lurched around, scrambling to find his bearings now that his eyes were destroyed.

As Ezra hit a stack of crates and knocked it over onto himself, Obi-Wan recalled his ‘saber to his hand. The sound of it igniting drew Maul’s attention, and he lunged forward, somehow finding Obi-Wan’s blade in the first swing. Ventress attacked from behind, earning herself a kick to the gut that sent her flying back into the wall.

Locking their ‘sabers together, Maul snarled in Obi-Wan’s face, “You will pay for every ounce of blood spilled this day. Your friends will die first, slowly, in unbearable agony, clawing for every breath as I tear the life from their bodies, and then, oh, and then you will—”

He was cut off by a crate hurling itself into his side and knocking him to the floor, where he lay gasping in shock for a moment before trying to scramble back to his feet. Before he got even halfway there, though, Ezra threw another crate at him, at least a dozen more swirling in the air above him.

“Well?” he yelled at Obi-Wan. “Are you just going to stand there?”

Obi-Wan shook himself, but before he could disarm Maul, the Zabrak had lunged forward, tackling Ezra and causing the crates to all drop around them. Ezra hit the ground with a cry, and Obi-Wan lunged forward, swiping at Maul, which made him turn and strike out at Obi-Wan once, twice…

The third time Obi-Wan didn’t block, but rather stepped forward and sliced downward, cutting through Savage’s ‘saber and Maul’s torso in the same move. Maul stared into open air with burned out eyes for a moment before collapsing to the ground, dead.

______ 

An hour later, the three of them were back on Raydonia, landing the cargo ship carefully in a clearing close to the massacred village. As the ship settled and the engines powered down, Ventress stepped back from her position behind the pilot’s seat, which Obi-Wan had claimed.

“So, what now?” She drawled, but to Ezra’s eyes she looked nervous, her hands as close to her lightsabers as possible without looking overtly threatening.

Obi-Wan seemed to pick up on it as well. “Well, I can hardly arrest you after your intervention, which may have saved my life…”

“May have?”

Ventress raised a brow, and Obi-Wan was quick to add, “Well, Ezra was there, too.”

Ezra scoffed lightly. Even between the two of them, he knew they couldn’t have beaten Savage and Maul. Ezra and Obi-Wan had both been focusing on Maul—for good reason, Ezra thought bitterly—so Savage would have taken them both off-guard.

“Getting back on track,” Ezra reminded Obi-Wan before they could get even more off-topic, “I don’t think we really need to arrest Ventress at this point.”

Obi-Wan nodded as he stood. “Agreed. So long as she doesn’t try to take us down now that the other threat has been neutralized…”

Ventress scoffed. “Please, Obi-Wan, I’m many things, but suicidal is not one of them. If I were to kill you or your friend, I’m sure I’d have Skywalker breathing down my neck for the rest of my suddenly very short life.”

Chuckling, Ezra walked out into the cargo hold. “You’re not wrong.”

“Besides,” Ventress added, gesturing to Ezra. “I kind of like this one.”

Ezra flashed her his signature grin. “Aw, thank you. You know, you’re only about half-bad yourself.”

Obi-Wan broke out into coughs that poorly disguised laughter, and Ventress narrowed her eyes at him. “Funny.”

“I try,” Ezra said before hitting the button to open the cargo hold’s door.

The village came into view as the ramp lowered, and just like that, the high he’d been riding since he and Maul had first clashed ‘sabers died. Exchanging a look with Obi-Wan, he knew they weren’t about to leave the villagers’ bodies to be picked apart by carrion. Grimly, he wondered if a funeral pyre would be better than a mass grave, and decided that that would probably be more respectful.

“What were you doing here, anyway?” Obi-Wan asked Ventress, and she scoffed picking up a sack that looked like it might have Savage’s head in it. It made Ezra’s stomach turn.

“Getting revenge and payment, the two most valuable things in the galaxy.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “There was a bounty on him?” He didn’t sound surprised. At Ventress’s nod, Obi-Wan harrumphed and turned to Ezra. “And do I want to know how you got here?”

Ezra grinned sheepishly. “Probably not.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Sighing, Ezra rubbed the back of his neck and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “I kinda borrowed the _Twilight_ and followed you.”

Obi-Wan leveled a flat glare at Ezra. “Borrowed, hm? Would Anakin agree with that assessment?”

Probably not, but Ezra just shrugged, hopping down from the ship and waving goodbye to Ventress before heading to the outskirts of the village. Obi-Wan was seconds behind, Ventress vanishing into the undergrowth behind them.

“Think she’ll be okay?” Ezra asked Obi-Wan, and he sighed.

“I have faith that the Force will watch out for her. She has such potential, but it has been wasted. You know, you actually remind me a bit of her.”

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “Really? I don’t see it.”

“Her story, Ezra, echoes yours very closely… up to a certain point. She lost her home at a young age, then was found by a Jedi, who offered to teach her instead of bringing her back to the Order. She would have been too old, you see. So he trained her out in the galaxy… and then he died in front of her.”

Ezra grimaced and spared a look back at the direction Ventress had gone. That must have been awful for her. Force knows he’d had enough people die in front of him to be able to empathize.

Obi-Wan continued, either ignoring Ezra’s reaction or trying to distract him from his darker thoughts. “That’s where your stories diverge, though. She was taken in by Dooku, and you… well, you ended up with us.”

“That sucks,” Ezra said, then quickly added, “For her, I mean. That sucks for her. But you think she could maybe come back from that?”

“I’m not joining your band of goodie-goodie two-shoes, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ventress called from above them, where she was perched on a rooftop. “And it’s touching that you think we have something in common.”

“What’re you still doing here?” Obi-Wan asked, and Ezra smiled slightly, knowing exactly what she was going to say.

Ventress rolled her eyes. “I’m not an animal, Obi-Wan, I wasn’t about to leave the bodies out to be feasted on.”

He looked over at Obi-Wan to make sure it was alright, and when he nodded, Ezra gestured for Ventress to come down and join them, and together, they got to work.

It was tiring and gruesome work. Ventress constructed the massive pyre while Obi-Wan and Ezra reverently gathered the villagers’ bodies. Some of them were missing limbs or entire halves of their bodies, and gathering those made him queasy. The stench of charred flesh clogged his nose, making him gag on more than one occasion.

This had happened because he hadn’t told Obi-Wan about Maul. If he had just warned him back when he’d first realized that Maul was still alive, these villagers—innocent, just caught in the crossfire—would still be alive. If Obi-Wan had gone after Maul sooner—hell, if he’d gone after Maul sooner—this tragedy wouldn’t have happened.

Dashing the tears from his eyes, he gathered up the corpse of a small boy, grabbing the toy the small figure was still clinging to for protection as well. Across the small alley from him, Obi-Wan was gently picking up the body of a woman, who must have been the boy’s mother. She’d died futilely protecting him.

As he took the child out to the village square, where Ventress was building the pyre, and laid him out next to the other bodies, he was struck by the thought that this was the second massacre he’d seen in just a few days, even though this one had had even more numbers than the first… an entire village instead of the squads of men he’d lost to the approach to the airbase and to Krell’s carnage.

As he forced open the door to yet another small home to find a man with a pained look on his face and a hole in his chest, he stifled a cry and clamped a hand over his mouth in horror. Force, this really was like the battle against Krell all over again. He couldn’t help but see Charger in the man’s place, and a sob escaped his mouth without his permission.

Trying not to trip as he made his way with teary eyes to the man’s side, he carefully closed the man’s eyes. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that the entire village lost their lives to Maul’s madness—it wasn’t fair that he’d lost his friend to Krell’s.

He wouldn’t even be able to see Charger properly buried. He didn’t know what the GAR did to its fallen soldiers, but he’d put money on there not being a proper burial. The chanted funeral rites that Sabine and Rex had taught him were all he could do to remember the clone who’d done so much and had come to mean so karking much to him.

Another sob tore its way out of his throat, and he practically collapsed into the ground, letting out a scream of rage. The whole house shook, and he grabbed a nearby rock and threw it, hitting a picture of the man with a little girl. He screamed again, this time heaving the table that sat in the corner of the room he was in across the room with the Force. It shattered on impact, and didn’t make him feel any better.

There was yet another hole in his life, one that he couldn’t imagine being filled by anyone else. Oh, he knew the others would try to step up—Adden would fill the role as unofficial second to his lead—but that wouldn’t be the same.

Nothing would ever be the same.

Obi-Wan was suddenly at the door, a look of fear on his face that quickly dissolved into empathy as he took in Ezra’s tear-streaked face. “Oh, Ezra…” he said softly, and Ezra dissolved into tears again.

“I lost him,” he whimpered, and started to pitch to the side, no longer having the strength to hold himself up.

Obi-Wan was there in an instant, holding him up and letting him cry into his shoulder. “I know, Ezra, I know… and I’m so sorry.”

Ezra let out another sob, buried his face in Obi-Wan’s tunic, and let himself cry it out. Idly, the thought came to him that Charger would be proud of him letting himself feel these emotions, which made the tears come harder.

“I can’t lose anyone else,” He managed after a bit. “I can't. It’ll break me.”

Obi-wan didn’t say anything, just hugged him tighter. There was nothing to say to that, anyway, as Obi-Wan couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t lose anyone else, that everyone he loved would make it through the war okay, that after this, there would be no more tragedy, no more war, no more pain. He couldn’t say anything that would make the pain go away.

Eventually, Ezra ran out of tears. He stayed with his head resting against Obi-Wan’s shoulder, though, too wrung out to get up or even think about moving. He closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing back under control, and tried not to flinch when Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. It was eerily reminiscent of Hera’s favorite sooting gesture whenever he’d been sick or injured. After letting Obi-Wan do that a couple times, he pushed himself up, grimacing as he wiped the traces of the tears off of his face.

From the doorway, Ventress said, “Are we going to get back to work, or is another crying session in order?” Despite the scathing words, she looked uncomfortable, and a spark of something that might have been sympathy was visible in her eyes for a split second.

Sniffing, Ezra nodded, and pushed himself to his feet. Obi-Wan stood as well, gathering the man’s body up in his arms and making for the door. Ventress hesitated for a moment before sighing.

“The pyre’s complete. I’ll help you gather up the bodies.”

Nodding, Ezra glanced over at the picture he’d hit earlier. “There should be a little girl around here somewhere,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll check the rest of the downstairs.”

Ventress nodded and headed upstairs, and Ezra sighed. He hated looking for kids. This was an adult’s war, why were kids anywhere near the crossfire? But he knew from experience that war didn’t care. It just killed whoever got close, and these villagers had gotten too close without even knowing it.

The downstairs was empty, and Ezra was about to call Ventress so they could move on when she called from above them, “Hey, Jedi! Get up here!”

Rolling his eyes at her demanding tone, he hurried up the stairs and into one of the two small bedrooms, where Ventress was standing with her hands spread, backing away from… the little girl form the picture. She was holding a stick, her face set in an expression that was somewhere between angry and terrified, and most importantly, she was completely unharmed.

“Oh, thank the Force,” Ezra whispered, stepping forward with his hands up where she could see them. “Hey, sweetheart. We’re not going to hurt you.”

He crouched so that he was on her level, but as soon as he reached out a hand to touch her, she screamed and scrambled across the room, grabbing onto Ventress’s legs and hiding behind her.

Ventress made a noise of… disgust? Surprise? Ezra wasn’t sure. All he was sure about was that he was the one the girl was scared of, not Ventress. Realizing that she must have heard him screaming and, well, for all intents and purposes, having a tantrum, he quickly scooted back, trying to give her space.

“What are you doing?” Ventress hissed. “You’re supposed to be handling her, not making her clingy.”

Ezra shot her a scowl. “She was up here the whole time.”

“So?”

“So,” Ezra explained with exaggerated patience, “not only did she hear me screaming and throwing stuff—” Ventress raised a brow but didn’t comment, which he was grateful for “—she also heard Maul or Savage or both come in and murder her father.”

The girl let out a soft cry of grief at his words, burying her face in Ventress’s hip. Force, she had to be six or seven at the oldest, the same age he’d been when he’d lost his parents. Given the lack of a mother’ presence in the pictures he’d spotted, he’d guess she was just as alone now as he’d been then.

So with a sigh, Ezra pulled out his commlink. “Hey, Obi-Wan? We’ve got a problem. A small, clingy, seven-year-old problem.”

“Did you de-age Ventress?” Obi-Wan asked in consternation, and Ezra squawked.

“Why is that your first assumption?” Obi-Wan didn’t answer, but Ezra could hear the raised eyebrow in the silence. “Okay, fair, but it’s not that, I swear. We, uh, we found a survivor.”

A short silence followed, then Obi-Wan said, “I’m on my way,” and ended the call.

Ventress shifted uncomfortably and Ezra shot her a commiserating smile. “Sorry. I’d help, but I don’t think she likes me.” It was frustrating, knowing that he probably could help better than Ventress but the kid wasn’t letting him. It was Maul and Savage’s fault, he reminded himself. They were the ones that traumatized her.

“And what gave you that impression?” Ventress snapped, shifting so that she was facing the little girl. “Why don’t you like him? I like him, and I don’t like anyone.” Ezra managed a half-smile at the compliment but kept his eyes focused on the girl’s face.

“He’s loud,” the girl whispered, “and angry.”

Ezra frowned. Loud? Well, that could be explained by the shouting earlier, as could the angry part, but something didn’t fit right with that explanation. She’d said “is.” As in, currently. When he’d been speaking in a gentle tone of voice since he’d seen her. Plus, how would she now he was angry? Unless…

Ezra swore and quickly reinforced his mental shields, dimming himself down as much as he could. “Better?” He asked, and, reluctantly, she nodded.

Ventress raised a brow. “You’re Force-sensitive?” She asked the girl, who looked at her in confusion.

“What’s that mean?”

Ezra managed a smile, but it was pained. Force, if this wasn’t an echo from the past. He’d asked the same thing when he’d first heard about the Force, even if he’d been twice the girl’s age when he’d asked it.

Ventress sighed in exasperation and sat down, crossing her legs beneath her. “What’s your name?”

The girl huffed, curling her shoulders in protectively. “Papa says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

Ventress rolled her eyes, and Ezra bit back a chuckle. This kid, seriously. “Well, your Papa’s not here anymore, so you can tell us.”

Tears sprang to the little girl’s eyes and her lower lip started to tremble. Immediately, Ventress looked panicked and rushed to soothe the girl. “Oh, I’m sorry, please don’t cry, I can’t stand crying…” The girl started crying.

This time Ezra did chuckle, earning himself a glare from Ventress, who jerked her head in a clear, ‘help me,’ gesture. He just silently chuckled a bit more while spreading his hands and doing his best to convey ‘this is all you’ without saying it aloud. She’d made the mess; she got to deal with it.

Helplessly, Ventress patted the girl on the head like a tooka, and Ezra could have groaned. “Don’t pet her.”

“Well, I don’t hear you coming up with any more brilliant ideas,” she snapped.

“Stroke her hair. That helps.”

Ventress did as he suggested, and the girl seemed to calm down somewhat. She stopped crying, at any rate. In fact, she shifted into Ventress’s lap, which made the Dathomirian assassin look very uncomfortable.

A minute or two later, Obi-Wan arrived, looking ever so slightly amused by the position Ventress was in. “Well, well, what have we here?”

“Oh, stop smirking, Obi-Wan, it doesn’t suit you,” Ventress said, but she didn’t stop stroking the girl’s hair. The girl didn’t move, but she looked up to evaluate Obi-Wan. She must have decided he wasn’t a threat, because she didn’t tense when he knelt down in front of her.

“Hello, little one,” he said softly, “Can you tell us your name?”

The girl hesitated, then whispered, “Jaesa.”

Obi-Wan beamed. For a moment Ezra was jealous of his ability to push aside the horrors waiting for them outside, only to realize he hadn’t really pushed it aside. He’d just pulled up the mask of kindly Jedi Master and kept his screaming internal.

“Well, Jaesa, I’m happy to meet you,” Obi-Wan was saying, and Ezra suspected that wasn’t a lie. He’d been relieved to find out that someone—anyone—had survived. “This is Asajj Ventress and Ezra Jarrus, and I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Jaesa blinked up at him with big, soulful brown eyes. “The bad men wanted you.” Obi-Wan visibly swallowed, and she added, “Papa said you’d come. He said you’d save us.” There was a note of accusation in her voice. Not that Ezra blamed her. If she was any older, he would have expected a symphony of ‘why didn’t you save us?’

Hanging his head slightly, Obi-Wan dropped the cheerful mask. “I’m so sorry, Jaesa. I should have gotten here sooner.”

Jaesa regarded him for a minute, then whispered, “I forgive you.”

Obi-Wan slumped in relief, and Ventress raised a brow. “Are you sure, little one?”

Ezra raised an eyebrow. Ventress sounded almost… caring. She noticed his look and told him to stop with the flip of a finger outside of Jaesa’s view, and Ezra bit back a snicker. It was cute, almost, how quickly Ventress was coming to care for the little girl. Probably, he decided, because he wasn’t the only one who saw themselves in her.

______ 

Ventress said she wanted Jaesa to go with Ezra and Obi-Wan, but her eyes said otherwise. So, the moment Ezra extended his hand and she recoiled, he wasn’t at all surprised by her immediate reaction.

“Nevermind. She’s coming with me.”

Jaesa didn’t protest, instead quickly running over to hide behind Ventress’s legs again. Ezra grinned and waved goodbye, striding back into the cockpit of the _Twilight_ while Obi-Wan asked Ventress, “Are you sure?”

A few minutes later Obi-Wan followed him into the cockpit, but he didn’t sit down. “I’ll be taking my ship back to Coruscant. You’re to take the _Twilight_ back to the _Resolute_ and then take a shuttle to the Temple. We’re expected there.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Ezra answered, staring out the viewport. From here, he could see the smoke from the funeral pyre they’d all lit with their lightsabers, even Jaesa, who’d borrowed one of Ventress’s.

“Before we go, though, there is something I need to talk to you about,” Obi-Wan said carefully, and Ezra turned around in the pilot’ seat. “During the duel, you seemed… angry.”

Ezra huffed and turned back to the console, running pre-flight checks to keep from having to look at Obi-Wan. “He tried to get me to turn to the Dark Side and he permanently scarred my dad, not to mention the massacre he’d just committed. Yeah, I was mad.”

“And you channeled it,” Obi-Wan didn’t quite make the statement an accusation, but it was a close thing.

Well, he wasn’t wrong. “Sort of? I channeled both the Light, and the Dark.”

“You found balance?” Raising an eyebrow, Obi-Wan folded his arms, and Ezra nodded.

“It’s hard to explain. But the Force is… balancing the Force starts with the smaller picture: you. But contrary to popular belief, it’s not just a matter of neither the Dark nor the Light, it’s both-and. I don’t know how else to explain, but…”

Slowly, Obi-Wan nodded, then made to leave, only to stop and look over his shoulder. “I meant to ask, how did you find me?”

Ezra turned in the pilot’s seat and gave him a half smile. “Remember how I said I reserved the right to reactivate your trackers if you did something stupid? Well, this definitely qualified as ‘stupid.’”

Obi-Wan looked surprised. “I thought I removed your tracker.”

“One of them, yeah. But not all of them.”

“I’ve changed robes since then!”

Ezra laughed. It felt strange to do so, with a funeral pyre burning only a few hundred yards away, and with the ache in his chest that had been present since Umbara, but it felt good at the same time. “You’ve _lost_ robes since then, you mean. And luckily for me, you don’t also have Anakin’s proclivity for losing lightsabers.”

Obi-Wan immediately clamped a hand over his hip, where his lightsaber was hanging, and scowled. “You put a tracker on my lightsaber?”

“During one of your lectures that I’d heard before, I sort of stole your lightsaber and made a quick modification to it,” Ezra explained. “Yeah, I put a tracker on it.”

Obi-Wan’s sigh was drowned out by the engines of Ventress’s ship firing up, and Ezra leaned forward to watch her take off. “Think they’ll be okay?” He asked as the ship ascended.

Next to him, Obi-Wan hummed. “I believe so, yes. Jaesa will be good for Ventress.” The ‘and vice versa’ went unsaid.

Ezra waited until the ship was just a speck in the sky before asking the thought that had really been weighing on him. “Think we’ll see them again?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I know we will.” Patting Ezra’s shoulder, he turned and left the _Twilight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaesa came literally out of nowhere, but she decided to force Ventress to have her redemption arc early, so I decided she could stay. Next week, a cliffhanger!


	2. Even After All Our History

Ahsoka ambushed Ezra the moment he left the hanger at the Jedi Temple. He'd left before Cody or Adenn, which unfortunately meant neither experienced him yelping and jumping several inches off the ground when she tapped him on the shoulder. Which was a pity, but it meant she alone had blackmail rights now.

"Was that really necessary?" Ezra demanded, probably trying to preserve some dignity as he brushed nonexistent lint off of his shirt. Where Ashla had found an orange shirt or why she’d given it to Ezra, Ahsoka still had no idea, but it actually went rather well with the blue pauldrons and bracers he still wore.

Ahsoka bit back hard on a cackle. "Yes."

He tried to level a glare at her, but it turned all too quickly to a grin and he slung his arm over her shoulder in a casual side-hug. It still sometimes startled her how free he was with giving physical affection. "So how've you been?" He asked as he started walking down the hallway.

"Oh, pretty good, all things considered," Ahsoka said breezily. "Since I saw you last, my men got placed under a Jedi who turned out to have Fallen, you showed up and saved the day using a lightsaber, and Rex proceeded to interrogate me for two solid hours after that."

Ezra had the sense to wince. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for this time?" Ahsoka asked wryly. "Because it could be for lying to me--again, after you promised you wouldn't--for leaving me to be interrogated by Rex, or for disappearing to Force-knows-where before I could interrogate you."

"Um, all of it?" Ezra replied cautiously, letting the arm he'd had over her shoulders drop down to his side. "Although to be fair, Ashla left the same info for you to go over, and the last two parts of what you said were completely unintentional. I was dragged off of Umbara by Master Kenobi before I could get even half-way through the explanation with Rex and Kix because Maul showed up and then I had to make sure he stayed down and--well, it was a big mess, is my point."

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down. Who or what is Maul?" Ahsoka demanded, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop in the middle of the hallway.

Ezra grimaced. "A Sith Lord. Not  _ the  _ Sith Lord," he added quickly at Ahsoka's sharp gasp, "he was his apprentice once. Then Obi-Wan cut him in half after Maul killed Obi-Wan's Master--is this ringing a bell? I feel like you should have heard this story before."

Ahsoka nodded, staring at him with wide eyes. She had heard the story--everyone in the creche had. It was the first time in hundreds of years that a Jedi had killed a Sith, and it was a Padawan. The Padawan who trained the person who became Ahsoka's Master, no less. So yeah, she'd heard it. But she could have sworn that the story usually said that the Sith had, you know,  _ died  _ when Obi-Wan killed him.

Ezra seemed to understand that she was confused. "Well, the cutting-him-in-half thing didn't exactly work that time, so Maul survived. Somehow. Another Zabrak, his brother, somehow got him new legs, Maul decided to go after Master Kenobi, and Master Kenobi--like the  _ di'kut  _ he is--decided to go after him alone."

"It was a trap?" Ahsoka asked dryly, not even remotely surprised when Ezra nodded.

"And if I hadn't tagged along, I'm not sure he'd have made it. I mean, he might have, he did have back-up, but still."

Ahsoka frowned. "Back-up?"

Ezra grimaced again as he resumed walking. _ "Enemy of my enemy is my friend _ apparently holds true when the enemy of your enemy is a former Sith assassin who also happens to be going after the Zabrak Sith."

Ahsoka stumbled, choking on her breath as she gasped, "Ventress? Why the kriff would you work with her?"

Ezra looked at her out of the corner of his eye, smiling slightly. "Enemy of my enemy? Pretty sure I just said that."

"Smart alack," Ahsoka muttered. "Just tell me you took care of the Sith."

The grin on Ezra's face was too vicious to be described as anything but vindictive. "Oh, yeah. We got them."

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. There was a story there. "Have you met them before?"

"Maul, yes, Savage, no. He'd died at some point before the Clone Wars were over, but Maul survived." Ezra didn't meet her eyes, just kept staring straight ahead as his walk turned more into a march.

Ahsoka frowned. His body language was screaming, _ I don't want to talk about this anymore,  _ and Ashla had warned her about respecting Ezra's boundaries. So she changed the subject. "Okay, but why did you tell me you didn't have a lightsaber when according to literally the entire 501st and some of the 212th swore they saw you use one that wasn't Master Kenobi's?"

Ezra grimaced, but his posture relaxed ever so slightly. "Because it's not my 'saber. It's... it was my dad's."

"Oh. I'm sorry." She felt a bit insensitive for asking about it now--of course he wouldn't want to talk about or use something that had to remind him of his father.

Ezra sent her a tired half-smile. "It's okay. I didn’t use it because it was about him, but also because I didn't want to have to explain to everyone why I had it or how I knew how to use it. Besides, I know how to use a blaster, which works just as well against clankers."

Ahsoka snorted at his word choice. At his raised eyebrow, she explained, "Oh, it's just kind of funny hearing you use the boys' lingo."

"It's not like I haven't been around them for--Force, seven months now? Of course I picked up the lingo," Ezra grinned at her as they entered a larger hallway, one with more people, and Ahsoka couldn't help but be grateful that they'd switched topics already. Cutting off a conversation because of potential eavesdroppers was frustrating. Ezra continued as they wandered through the small groups of Jedi. "And it's not like it's hard to pick up, even for a shiny. Which I don't think I qualify as anymore, do I, Commander?"

She rolled her eyes at his teasing tone. "Why do you always say my rank like it's a joke?"

"'Cause it kind of feels like it is," Ezra retorted, grinning broadly. "I mean, I'm three years your senior, and you outrank me  _ that much. _ It's just kind of hard to take seriously."

Ahsoka stuck her tongue out at him before having to dodge a group of Initiates who apparently  _ had  _ to cut between them. "You're two and a half years older than me, not three. Quit exaggerating it."

"Am I?" Ezra asked, sounding somewhere between speculative and disbelieving.

"Yes," Ahsoka insisted as she hurried in front of him and turned around so that she was walking backwards but facing him, "because my birthday was a few months ago, and yours was, what, six months before that? That's two and a half years."

Ezra grinned. "Actually, the date that my birthday fell on was seven months before your birthday, but my birthday was a couple months ago, too, so I'm twenty and you're seventeen. That's three years. Don't doubt my math."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Are you even sure that's when your birthday was? What with, you know, everything?"

Ezra gave a short laugh. "I spent two weeks and four pages of flimsi trying to work out when my birthday is. Trust me, my birthday was a couple of months ago, even if my date of birth is--oh, kriffing Sithspit." He cut himself off with the curse, stopping dead in his tracks with a look of mild disgust on his face. "It's in, like, a month."

Which meant if things had gone the same on that end, Padme was now pregnant with Ezra. Ahsoka's face probably matched his, because that was weird. Besides, when had they even had time to do... that? Not that she wanted to think about  _ that _ , she really wanted to just pretend  _ that  _ was not a thing that had happened, but still, she was curious about Anakin's time-management.

She shook her head, trying to get the thought out of her head. "Alright, then, Mister Twenty-Year-Old, care to go a round or two in the dojo? You know, now that I know I won't just flatten you in an instant."

Ezra laughed and shook his head as he started walking again. At this rate they'd never reach the Council Chambers. "Yeah, that'd be a no. I might know how to use a lightsaber, but I'm rusty. Haven't actually practiced consistently for over a year."

"Rusty." Ahsoka deadpanned. "You defeated a rogue Jedi Master and helped defeat two Sith Lords, and you're rusty." Ezra just shrugged, and she rolled her eyes. "Fine, we'll find someone who's closer to your skill level. Maybe an Initiate, or a Youngling," she teased.

Ezra scoffed good-naturedly. "You just said I defeated a Jedi Master and helped defeat two Sith, and I’ll remind you that I beat you in hand-to-hand not a month ago. If I fought an Initiate, their self-esteem would never recover."

"Never? Someone's pretty sure of himself," Ahsoka gently elbowed his arm. "Fine, then, a junior Padawan. That'd be fun--I mean, informative. Cal’s not here, but I'm sure we can find someone for you to spar with. I know Master Bilaba just got back to the Temple, and she's got a Padawan--"

Ezra cut her off, his face contorted into an expression a bit too pained to be a grimace. "Yeah, no, let's not do that."

Ahsoka frowned. "You okay?"

Ezra sighed heavily, slowing slightly. "Uh, yeah, I'm... I'm good, it's just..." He stopped walking, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before meeting her worried gaze with a sad smile. "I've, uh, met Caleb. Or I will, or however tenses work. He was one of the survivors."

Ahsoka winced, putting a hand on Ezra's arm. "Sorry, I didn't--"

"Didn't know, I know, it's not like I talk about any of it much." He shot her what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile and started walking again. "So you don't have to apologize." He glanced around, taking in the high ceilings and tall pillars of the hall. "So, where exactly are we supposed to be going?"

"This way," Ahsoka said, tugging his arm to get him to turn. To him, the Temple was probably like a maze, but she'd lived here since she was three, so she knew these halls like the back of her hand. The hall got more populated as they moved through the structure, although it was still very narrow, making traffic pile up, to the point that Ahsoka had to keep a firm grip on Ezra's arm to make sure he didn't get lost. After all, she was still short enough to be difficult to spot among the Jedi, clones, and other assorted visitors. She wasn't sure why it was so busy today, but it made navigating the Temple a pain.

As they walked, she tried to fill the silence--or at least work off some of her nerves by talking over the dozens of other muted conversations being held. "We're actually not supposed to be in the Council Chambers for another hour or two, but they are terrible about sticking to a schedule. I mean, with the war on and everything, most of them can get called away at a moment's notice, so it's not really surprising, but it does get annoying when you've been dreading a meeting and then they push it back further. 

“Maybe we'll be lucky this time and whoever's supposed to go before us will cancel. I'm pretty sure it's General Secura, but I'm not sure what she'd be wanting to talk about. It could be the chips, but I was pretty sure that the boys were gonna keep that under wraps until--"

She cut herself off as she suddenly lost her grip on Ezra's arm. Instantly, she whirled around, relaxing ever so slightly when she found him. He was frozen in place, staring down one of the side halls that ran along the edge of the building. She wasn't sure he was actually breathing. His face was pale, and his eyes were too wide.

"Ezra?" She asked softly, quickly pushing past a group of people to stand in front of him, but he didn't so much as glance her way. Instead, he took a hesitant step toward the hall. Looking down it, Ahsoka tried to see what had gotten him so spooked, but the hallway was empty.

Empty except for a human male, with his back toward them. There was nothing remarkable about him at first glance--he was taller than average, with brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, a single blaster pistol at his hip, and wearing a green tunic--but as she looked closer, Ahsoka could see the poise with which he held himself. He exuded calm, even just standing still with his hands behind his back. If Ahsoka didn't know any better, she'd think he was meditating, but the blaster told her he wasn't a Jedi.

Glancing at Ezra, she was about to ask why he was staring, but a look at his face cut her off without him having to say anything. He took a stumbling step forward, eyes fixed on the figure despite the group of Senatorial aides that were passing in front of him, and called out, his voice cracking with emotion.

_ "Kanan?" _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> Fun fact: this is the first time Ezra has said or thought the name Kanan throughout the entire series and do you have any idea how hard that was to pull off


	3. How Light Carries On Endlessly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for it, it's here early--no wait, that's a lie. It's here now because I'm moving to a new update schedule. One chapter on Saturdays, one on Wednesdays. Hopefully then I'll be done posting this before New Year's. Maybe not. This is turning out to be longer than What We're Fighting For was.

He honestly had never thought he would be back here again. Kanan took a deep breath, letting his body relax completely as he closed his eyes. He was standing in front of one of the many windows that lined the hall, facing away from the hustle and bustle in the large hall behind him. Maybe just off of one of the busiest thoroughfares in the Temple wasn't the best place to try to appreciate the peace of the place, but he was just a visitor. They weren't going to let him into one of the meditation rooms or private gardens. Although, he mused, they might let him go to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. That was slightly more public.

He tried to focus more on the sights, sounds, smells, and general feel of the Temple, rather than the way the Force sang around him. It was safe to take in the quiet murmur of voices, the faint smell of earth and linen that barely covered the traces of grease and carbon scouring, and the warmth of Coruscant's sun on his face; it was not safe to reach out with the Force.

He still hadn't told General Secura that part of the truth, and reaching out with the Force in the middle of the Jedi Temple was a great way to have the truth revealed. It was safer for her to think he was a quiet gunslinger trying to protect his daughter, who was trying to win the war single-handedly.

It wasn't even that far from the truth, either. Since he’d told her that this was permanent, Sabine had thrown herself into the war effort with reckless abandon, never slowing and nearly getting herself killed multiple times. The worst part was that she almost didn't care, shrugging it off when Kanan tried to confront her about it. It scared him, honestly, because he knew that if he didn't have her to look after, he'd probably be doing the same thing. But she had him, and while she watched his back with an almost fanatic dedication, she didn't seem to realize that if something happened to her, the only family he had left, he'd break.

Exhaling steadily, he pushed all thoughts of Sabine out of his head. She could wait just a few more days--maybe less if the Council actually decided to listen to them--then they could step back from the war. They'd have done their part, and he could focus on getting Sabine to actually face what she'd been adamantly refusing to acknowledge: that there was no going back, no returning home. The best they could do for the people they cared about was give them a better universe, even if that meant that their younger counterparts never actually met. Force, Caleb might never meet Hera.

The thought made Kanan shudder, because the idea of any version of him not meeting Hera was appalling. Maybe he could arrange a meeting--further down the line, obviously. Caleb was currently fourteen and Hera was ten. It'd be wrong to play match-maker with kriffing children. Although, it'd be weird to play match-maker with the younger version of himself--or just to interact with the younger version of himself, period.

Kanan felt a smile tug at one corner of his mouth as he clasped his hands behind his back. Even if it had landed him and Sabine in the middle of a war with no chance of seeing the rest of their family again, he did have to appreciate the humorous side of this. He was twenty years his own senior, and thus could probably beat himself in the dojo any day of the week.

Not that he would be allowed in the dojo. That was for lightsaber wielders only, and while Kanan did have Ezra's lightsaber secured in the improvised holster in his boot, he'd never used it. He'd kept his sense of the Force behind a locked door, not cutting himself off, exactly, but limiting his connection to it. If a Force-sensitive focused on him for too long, they would figure it out, but they most likely wouldn't be able to tell he'd been trained.

Unless it was Master Yoda. Or Master Kenobi. Or Master Windu--he'd never been able to hide much from his Grandmaster--or really any of the Council members. Honestly, it was a miracle General Secura hadn't noticed.

Speaking of, she should be here, as should Sabine. Their appointment with the Council was supposed to begin soon, and while Kanan was aware that the meeting would most likely not start until a good hour after it was supposed to, Secura liked to be punctual. She'd find him soon, or she'd comm him and tell him where to meet her.

With another deep breath, Kanan mentally rehearsed the story they were going to feed the Council--close to the truth, but avoiding specific details, such as the fact that they’d seen exactly what the chips were capable of. Maybe one day he and Sabine would tell them the truth, but not yet. Not while the Sith were still a threat.

Shifting slightly, Kanan tried not to frown. Where was General Secura? She ought to have been here by now, or have commed. He was debating biting the bullet and comming her first when a distant voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

_ "Kanan?" _

Kanan's eyes snapped open as two realizations slammed into him, only heartbeats apart. The first was that if someone was calling for him, they should be saying Spectre One, the only name he'd given since he and Sabine had left Lothal.

The second was that he knew that voice.

"Kanan!"

He turned to face the crowded hallway behind him in time to glimpse the blue and orange blur before it tackled him in a hug forceful enough to knock him back a few steps. He froze, the sight of a dark blue head of hair burying itself in his shoulder stealing his breath.

In front of him, a familiar-looking Togrutan teenager pushed her way out of the crowd, obviously confused. She opened her mouth to say something, but Kanan quickly shifted his attention to the young man clinging to him like a drowning man would cling to a raft.

Slowly, afraid that if he moved the kid would vanish, Kanan put his arms around him. When he stayed solid--stayed  _ there-- _ Kanan tightened his hold, whispering, "Ezra?"

Ezra's response was a choked sob that sounded suspiciously like his name.“Oh my stars, Kanan, you’re real, you’re  _ here…”  _ He managed. He was shaking badly, and if Kanan's shoulder was now wet, he didn't say anything. He couldn't, because his brain was short-circuiting with the fact that the kid was actually here.

It was surreal, like he was dreaming or watching it happen from a distance. It couldn’t be real. After seven months on their own, he and Sabine had long since given up on the idea that anyone else was here. Kanan had searched, when they’d gotten here, for Ezra’s signature, and he couldn’t find it. So having him here, sobbing into Kanan’s shoulder, just felt impossible.

Carefully, he reached up and cupped his hand around the back of Ezra's head, his hair smooth against the palm of Kanan's hand. The sensation suddenly grounded him, dragging him back into his body, and a sob escaped his mouth before he even realized it was coming. He buried his face in Ezra's shoulder, purposely ignoring the people walking in the hallway staring at them. They didn't matter. The hows and whys of Ezra being here didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, was alive and okay, and Kanan and Sabine weren't alone anymore.

A tentative knock on his mental shields startled him, but he quickly threw down the walls he'd built around his mind. Instantly, that blank space in his mind where their bond should have been but wasn't was replaced by the familiar feeling of Ezra's mind. Around them, the Force damn near exploded with the force of the kid's disbelief, and the hope and relief which mirrored his own, because this was  _ right  _ and how things  _ should be _ and the galaxy was _ finally making sense. _

Immediately, he wrapped himself around Ezra’s Force signature, holding it even tighter than he was holding the teen.  _ You’re here, _ he whispered through their bond,  _ You’re here, I can’t believe it— _

Ezar’s thoughts were similar, a running monologue of  _ how  _ and  _ this shouldn’t be possible _ and  _ you were dead how are you here? _

Out loud, Kanan whispered, “I don’t know, I don’t—you’re okay, you’re okay.”

_“Kanan,”_ Ezra sobbed again, and Kanan had to blink furiously around the tears in his eyes. He knew his decision on the fuel pod would hurt them all, but he had never imagined the depth of the _painguilt_ ** _grief_** that Ezra was feeling.

Guilt welled up inside him, and he whispered, “I am so, so sorry, Ezra, if there had been another way…”

“It’s okay,” Ezra managed, “You’re here now--you’re here, right? I’m not dreaming?”

“Not a dream, kiddo,” he said softly. “I’m here. And I plan to stay.”

After a few more minutes, Kanan forced himself to move, dropping his hands to the kid's shoulders and gently pushing him away enough that he could look at him--and actually  _ see  _ him. Ezra resisted at first, before Kanan sent a pulse of emotion through their bond--and Force how he'd missed that-- so that Ezra would understand how much Kanan needed to be able to make sure with his own eyes that he was okay. He almost reluctantly took a half step back, meeting Kanan's eyes with a teary smile before shock overtook his features.

"Your eyes!" Ezra managed, gaping openly, and Kanan laughed despite the tears on his face.

"Yeah, they've been back for a while." He paused and shook his head, unable to believe his eyes. “Force, just look at you. You’re all grown up!”

It was true, and if Ezra was still staring at him, Kanan couldn’t really say anything. Ezra looked so much older. Kanan had caught a glimpse of him in the heartbeats between his eyes healing and the actual explosion, but he'd been mostly focused on Hera, and Ezra had had an Imperial pilot's uniform on, so he hadn't actually been able to see him as he normally was.

Now he could. There were bags under his blue eyes, lines on his face that hadn't been there before, and stubble and a few faint scars on his jaw--most likely from when he was learning to shave. Some part of Kanan wondered who'd taught him. Probably Rex. By the time Ezra was worrying about it, Kanan didn't really trust himself with a razor, and Zeb didn't know how.

Despite the lines, bags, scars and stubble, though, Ezra had never looked better. His red-rimmed eyes were lit up with joy, and he was grinning ear-to-ear despite the tears running down his face and the hiccuping shudders that still shook his slender frame. He was taller, too, still shorter than Kanan by a good couple of inches, but he couldn't tuck himself under Kanan's chin anymore, not without hunching over.

"You're staring," Ezra said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Kanan managed another laugh. "I think I can be excused. I haven't actually  _ seen  _ you in years. Force, you've gotten tall. I didn't--I was sure I'd never see you again. We thought we were alone. Where've you been?"

Ezra smiled sheepishly. "Um, well, I started out in Wild Space because of  _ stuff-- _ " Kanan mentally translated that as  _ purgill  _ "--then ended up in a Separatist prison before she broke me out." He gestured over his shoulder at the Togruta girl, who looked like it was finally dawning on her who Kanan was.

It dawned on Kanan at about the same time who this was. Young Ahsoka Tano. Kanan shot Ezra a look that said,  _ how weird is it to be around the baby version of your aunt all the time? _ Ezra's responding shudder told him,  _ pretty kriffing weird. _

Kanan snorted in amusement before stepping forward, keeping an arm around Ezra's shoulders as he extended a hand to shake hers. "Anyone who can keep this one out of trouble for any length of time has my respect."

"Right," Ahsoka said, sounding dazed as she shook his hand. "I mean, um, thanks." She blinked a few more times before shaking herself out of her stupor. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Kanan shot Ezra a look, and Ezra instantly looked down at the ground, sending another wave of  _ griefguiltpain  _ through their bond, followed by a faint feeling of,  _ I didn't want to talk about it _ . Kanan squeezed Ezra's shoulder comfortingly before turning back to Ahsoka. "I'm Kanan Jarrus."

"Jarrus?" At this, Ahsoka's brow markings shot up. "You're his dad? I thought you said your dad was killed." She directed the last statement to Ezra, who instantly protested.

"Because he was!"

Kanan raised a hand placatingly. "I wish I had answers, trust me, I really wish I did. I remember the explosion, I remember... after, a bit, but then I was back on Lothal in--well, I'm sure you know. I just don't know how or why." He gave Ezra a significant look, and he nodded.

"Great, another mystery." Ahsoka muttered. "I'd introduce myself, but I think that'd be a little redundant considering you've met me before."

Kanan felt like he'd been slapped. Turning slowly, he fixed Ezra with a look, and instantly the teen--was he still a teen? No, he would have turned twenty by now--raised his hands defensively.

"They ran a DNA test! What was I supposed to do?"

"Not let them run a DNA test?" Kanan suggested teasingly.

"I was unconscious!"

"What?!" Kanan immediately yelped, and Ezra winced.

"Um, yeah, I'd just been... banged up a bit and Kix had me in the medbay and decided to run one for whatever reason."

Ahsoka quickly cut in. "That's a load of bantha poodoo and you know it. We'd just rescued him from the Separatist prison he mentioned, where they had  _ interrogated  _ and  _ tortured  _ him." Kanan felt his heart stop with shock, and it must have shown because Ahsoka quickly added, "he wasn't in danger of dying, and he was out of the woods by the time Kix ran the test."

Kanan shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. Ezra looked up at him sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry, it's been a lot." Kanan snorted, dragging his hand over his chin. After waiting a minute to see if he was going to say anything, Ezra added, "You know, whenever I wished I knew what fighting in the Clone War was like, I never meant I wanted to get thrust into the middle of it."

Kanan snorted again. "Nothing like you imagined, is it?"

Ezra shook his head. "Not really. It's somehow both more boring and more terrifying than what I was picturing."

Kanan smiled. "I thought you'd know by now that that's what war is."

Ezra laughed, and Ahsoka muttered, "Can't disagree with you there."

The conversation fell into silence for a bit, Kanan content just to keep Ezra tucked under his arm. He caught Ezra eyeing him out of the corner of his eye like he was still expecting him to disappear, but Kanan just grinned. He was doing the same, so who was he to judge?

Ahsoka shifted uncomfortably. "This is really weird, though." Kanan shot her an amused look, and she huffed. "Not the whole time travel thing, although, I mean, yeah, that's weird, too, but that's an entirely different kind of weird. I meant talking with someone who knows me but I don't know them. How am I even supposed to act around you?"

Kanan shrugged. "Like you do around Ezra, I suppose. It's not that different."

"It kind of is," Ahsoka crossed her arms, bringing her shoulders up almost defensively. "I mean, he's my age, you're... Ashla's age, so you know her better, and you're probably going to expect me to act more like her."

Kanan raised his hand, confused. "Hold on one second, who's Ashla?"

Ezra's eyes got almost comically wide as he cursed, stepping out from under Kanan’s arm. "Oh, well, it'd--it's too confusing to have two Ahsokas around, and that would kind of give the whole time travel thing away."

"Two--" Kanan cut himself off, then shook his head, trying to clear it. "Your aunt is here?" He asked Ezra, disbelief heavy in his voice.

Ezra nodded, a reluctant smile on his face. "Yeah, she survived Malachor because of... stuff, and we kind of had a working hypothesis that the thing that kept Vader from killing her was what made the two of us end up back here, but now that it's the three of us, that theory is clearly wrong, because you never interacted with the... um, the thing."

Ahsoak was staring at Ezra, shaking her head in disbelief. "Wow, you really are amazing. You can lie without breaking a sweat, but then you have to summarize what happened to him or Ashla and suddenly you're a stuttering mess."

"Hey!" Ezra protested, but he was grinning, so Kanan knew he wasn't serious. "I can  _ stretch the truth _ without breaking a sweat, but Dad's intimidating, and Ashla's even worse."

Kanan nearly choked at Ezra's words. He and Hera had adopted Ezra, yes, but by the time they had, he was so used to calling them by their names that he had very rarely called them Mom or Dad. Still, he managed to chuckle. "I always thought Hera was the intimidating one, but I'll take the compliment. Where's 'Ashla' now?"

Ezra shrugged. "I don't know exactly. She promised to comm me if she got too deep into trouble, but otherwise she didn't say--"

"She's trying to expose the Sith," Ahsoka interrupted, earning her a surprised look from Ezra. "What? You were still in the medbay, and she had to leave. She told me not to tell you because you'd get worried."

"Why were you in the medbay?"

"Why did she think I wouldn't worry anyway?"

Ahsoka looked back and forth between the two like she wasn't sure whether to let Ezra answer Kanan's question first or to go ahead and answer Ezra's question. Ezra sighed and rolled his eyes, absentmindedly fiddling with the glove on his left hand. "Mission went wrong. We got caught, Master Obi-Wan, Rex, and I ended up in a slavers' mine, and being the youngest, they picked on me the most."

That really didn't make Kanan feel any better. Shaking his head, he fixed Ezra with a look. "How many times have you ended up in a medbay since this all started?"

Ezra raised his hands defensively. "Only twice, I promise! Right after we met--" he gestured to Ahsoka, who looked like she was five seconds from interrupting "--and after Zygerria, that's it!"

"Um, no, it's not," Ahsoka corrected, and Kanan tried his very best not to roll his eyes, because of course it wasn't. "I know for a fact Cody made you go after the Citadel, and probably after the incident with Maul, too."

At the name Maul, Kanan felt the blood drain from his face. The scar across his eyes stung as he carefully took a breath. He was not going to have a panic attack. He wasn't. Quietly, in a forcibly calm voice, Kanan said, "Tell me you didn't seek him out."

Ezra winced and Kanan bit back the urge to groan. "Only because Master Obi-Wan did, and he and his brother were terrorizing a village. It's not like I put everything else aside to hunt him down."

Force help him. He'd forgotten just how much stress this kid gave him. If he was grey before he turned forty, Ezra would undoubtedly be the reason why. "Kid..." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Emotion yet peace, he reminded himself. Master Bilaba would be impressed by his control. Looking up, he met Ezra's eyes. "Just tell me you didn't try to get revenge."

Ezra shook his head. "No, but he is dead." At Kanan's raised eyebrow, Ezra explained, "Master Obi-Wan didn't want him to get away, but it was either that or kill him, and then Ventress killed his brother, so he wasn't going to back down, and, well..."

Kanan took a deep breath and nodded. That was good. Ezra hadn't done anything stupid--this time--and Maul wouldn't go on to terrorize Mandalore.

Ezra ruined it by adding, "I did blind him, though."

"Ezra...." Kanan groaned.

"What? He left a perfectly good opening. And it was that or risk the fight dragging on even longer, which could have meant Master Obi-Wan, Ventress, and I could have been hurt or killed. It was a strategic decision."

"And the choice to blind him instead of simply wounding him had nothing to do with the fact that he blinded me, I'm sure," Kanan drawled.

Ahsoka's eyes widened. She'd undoubtedly noticed the scar earlier, but now she knew how he got it, and just how much damage it had done. "How--" she started to ask, but Ezra cut her off, probably not realizing that she had been trying to ask a question.

"Like I said, strategic opening." Ezra did at least look slightly sheepish. "Any higher or lower and I would have killed him, which I know you would have disliked even more. So, yeah, I blinded him."

Kanan sighed. It really couldn't be helped now. Besides, from the way Ezra was describing it, it was more poetic justice than intentional revenge. If the universe decided to have a sense of humour every once in a while, who was he to judge. "Okay," he said quietly. "Did he hurt you at all?"

"No, I'm fine. That was this last week, we just got back. Oh, but that does remind me," Ezra grabbed a couple pieces of equipment off of his belt. "I think I have something that belongs to you." Twisting the pieces together, he extended his hand, offering a very familiar lightsaber to Kanan.

Kanan smiled, taking the weapon from his Padawan and trying not to let himself visibly relax as he felt the familiar crystal inside singing. Resting a hand on Ezra's shoulder, he hooked the 'saber onto his belt before reaching into the holster in his boot.

Ezra's eyes widened comically as he instantly recognized the weapon. "Is that..."

Kanan nodded as Ezra almost reverently reclaimed his 'saber. "I've been holding onto it. Haven't used it, but that's just because I didn't want people asking where I got it or how I knew how to use it."

“Where did you get it?” Ezra asked, turning the weapon over in his hands.

Oh, right. This was going to be fun. “Your sister held onto it.” Ezra’s head shot up. “When we both ended up on Lothal, she gave it to me. Said I can use it better.”

“She’s--Sabine’s here?” Ezra choked out, his knuckles white on his ‘saber.

Kanan nodded, then frowned. “Well, not here, here. She’s on Coruscant, but not in the Jedi Temple, I don’t think. She told me she’d comm me when she headed this way.”

As Ezra closed his eyes, clearly fighting off tears, Ahsoka raised her hand. She looked so lost, Kanan felt sort of sorry for her. 

“So, Sabine’s your sister?” Ahsoka asked. From the way she phrased it, she’d clearly heard the name before, but hadn’t been sure of the relation. 

As Ezra nodded, hooking the lightsaber onto his belt, Kanan frowned slightly. “Had he not mentioned her before?”

Ahsoka snorted. “He never mentioned any of you by name, only referred to you as his mom, dad, sister--you get the idea.” 

Looking over at Ezra, who was hanging his head in shame, Kanan felt tears sting in his eyes. Of course he hadn’t wanted to talk about them. He hadn’t had anyone there with him who remembered them and what they’d done, what they’d been to each other, and no way of knowing if he'd ever see them again. Yes, he’d had Ahsoka--both versions--but the younger didn’t understand, and the older had left on a self-appointed mission to take down the Sith. He’d been alone. Again.

“Ezra,” Kanan said softly. Reluctantly, Ezra lifted his head, and Kanan held out his arms, an open invitation that he knew Ezra would never turn down.

Instantly, Ezra hugged him, burying his face in Kanan’s shoulder again as he started crying again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know I screwed up, I’m so karking sorry, Kanan--” Ezra sobbed, and Kanan hugged him tighter.

“It’s alright, it’s alright.  _ Ezra. _ You did nothing wrong, I promise.” Kanan said softly, carefully running his hand through Ezra’s hair. It was longer than it had been when Kanan had died, but not quite as long as it had been when they'd met. Most of it was held back in a ponytail, like he was trying to imitate Kanan's hair style, but several strands were too short to stay back and instead framed his face. Carefully brushing those strands from Ezra's face, Kanan felt the tears he'd been holding back start slipping out again.

Ezra was shaking in his arms. If Kanan concentrated through their bond, he could almost feel Ezra falling apart. He must have been holding himself together through sheer force of will, determined not to fall apart until after everything was over. The amount of guilt and grief made Kanan want to just bundle him up and take him back to the  _ Ghost, _ back to the days when their biggest concern was whether they’d get enough credits from the next job to keep them going. He must have been blaming himself for this--for them getting stuck back in time--when it wasn’t his fault. But that was just who Ezra was: he always believed that if something went wrong, it was because of him.

“Ezra,” Kanan said a little more forcefully. “None of this is your fault. I don’t blame you for any of the choices you’ve made up to this point--of course you would have thought you were alone and wouldn’t want to talk about it. I’ve been there. Trust me, I understand. And I will never blame you.”

Ezra’s grip tightened, and Kanan had to force himself not to wince. He was going to be bruised tomorrow, that was for certain. Not that it mattered. What mattered now was Ezra.

“Just let it out, kiddo,” Kanan whispered, looking over the top of Ezra’s head at Ahsoka, who was watching them with a thoroughly confused expression. He understood why she wouldn’t quite get what was going on. As close as she’d been to her Master, Ahsoka--or the older version, at least--had admitted that as emotional as Anakin was, he wasn’t very open; thus, she didn’t quite understand on an emotional level how close Ezra and Kanan were. So the younger version--and kriff, no wonder one of them was now going by Ashla--would understand even less.

Sending her a sympathetic smile, Kanan rubbed Ezra’s back as his sobs turned slowly to hiccups, which slowly faded away until he was just sniffing in Kanan’s arms. With one last pat on Ezra’s back, Kanan let him go, giving him a small smile when he saw how red Ezra’s eyes and nose were. 

“Sorry,” Ezra muttered, and Kanan rolled his eyes.

“Ezra, you never need to apologize for the world piling too much crap on your plate. Never. Got it?” Ezra reluctantly nodded, and Ahsoka awkwardly cleared her throat. When they both looked over at her, she blinked in surprise.

“Wow. You two are scarily in sync. Anyway, you probably need to clean up a bit. We do have the Council meeting that’s supposed to start in less than an hour.”

Kanan frowned and checked his chrono. “Oh, kriff. Mine was supposed to start over thirty minutes ago.”

“Yours?” Ezra asked, confused. His voice had a nasally edge to it, and he rubbed his nose as he continued. “I thought General Secura was supposed to be before us.”

“And I’m with her--well, we’ve been working together on an unofficial basis.”

Simultaneously, Ezra’s and Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “You spread the word about the chips?” Ahsoka demanded, her expression somewhere between  _ what?  _ and  _ of course it was you. _

Ezra pressed a hand to his forehead, muttering, “Of course that was you. Force, I’m such an idiot.” At Kanan’s raised eyebrow, Ezra explained, “There were rumors in the 212th about a gunslinger and his daughter who’d joined General Secura’s battalion, but there was never any official confirmation, and then word of the chips came from Bly…. I should have figured something was up.”

Kanan frowned. “Why were you with the 212th? I thought you’d be with Ahsoka and the 501st.”

Ezra and Ahsoka exchanged a look, and Kanan internally groaned. What had happened this time?

“Well…” was all Ezra got out before another voice called from the busy hallway called out.

“Spectre One!” General Secura emerged from the crowd, looking a bit more disheveled than usual. Beside her, Bly stood at attention, his helmet on securely.

Ah, so that was why she was late.

“Yes, General?” was all he said, though, respecting her desire not to have their relationship broadcast to the rest of the Jedi Temple.

Secura looked back and forth between Ahsoka, who was trying to look casual, and Ezra, who still looked like he’d been crying, and frowned. “Were these two bothering you? And where’s Spectre Five?”

The three of them exchanged looks and Ezra actually giggled slightly, raising an eyebrow at Kanan, obviously wanting to say something about the obvious relationship there. Kanan shook his head, though, smiling softly as Ezra shut his mouth before turning back to General Secura. “No, they’re not bothering me. They were just telling me what they’d been up to.”

Oh?” Secura arched an eyebrow, looking over the two younger Jedi carefully. “I trust you haven’t been getting yourself into too much trouble, Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka grinned. “Oh, just the usual amount.”

Secura smiled fondly before turning to Ezra. “You must be Master Kenobi’s new Padawan. You’ve caused quite a stir since the Council found out about you.” 

Kanan automatically flinched when she referred to Ezra that way, but he understood. Of course Ezra would want to continue his training. And it would be fitting that it was Master Kenobi, the man who’d trained Ezra’s birth father, and who’d set him on the path to being a Jedi by leaving him on Lothal all those years ago. 

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he almost missed Secura’s next words. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Padawan Jarrus.”

Kanan instantly turned to Ezra, raising an eyebrow, and Ezra smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I hope you don’t mind, I’ve been--”

Kanan cut him off by sending a wave of affection through their bond, and Ezra’s smile broadened into a grin as he looked down at the floor for a second before looking back up at General Secura. With a slightly more mischievous edge to his smile, Ezra snarked, “All good things, I hope.”

Secura was looking back and forth between Kanan and Ezra like she had no idea what their brief exchange had been about. Actually, she didn’t. She had no idea the name  _ Jarrus _ had ever been connected to him, or that wasn’t just a random Padawan he’d bumped into in the halls of the Jedi Temple. “Mostly mixed, I’m afraid. But if it makes you feel any better, most of the negative was from those who haven’t met you.”

“Oh, so I just haven’t had a chance to win them over yet,” Ezra grinned, and Kanan had to fight to keep his hands at his sides. Ezra was eyeing him out of the corner of his eye, like he was anticipating Kanan’s usual smack upside the head. Kanan just sighed and shook his head, smiling fondly.

Secura threw her head back and laughed. “I see Obi-Wan’s been teaching you something.”

“No, he’s just like that,” Ahsoka muttered, and Ezra grinned at her.

“You’re just bitter because you don’t have my natural charisma.”

Ahsoka leveled a sarcastic look at him and deadpanned, “Yeah. I’m sure that’s what it is.”

Bly nudged General Secura, and she blinked as if remembering that she wasn’t here to meet Ezra. “The Council is ready for us, by the way. If Spectre Five is not already on her way, perhaps you should comm her?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ezra’s grin. Oh, yeah. This next conversation with Sabine was going to be a lot of fun.


	4. Building Up And Liberating Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the super-emotional and drawn-out reunion that was the last chapter, I figured we'd be okay making the next couple a bit shorter and less tear-filled. Hope you don't mind, but here you go!

The cheers from the bar fight were still ringing in Sabine’s ears as she knocked back another shot. She'd promised Kanan she'd be careful while she was out, but the guy had kept hitting on her even after she told him--repeatedly--that she wasn't interested. So she'd punched him. Hard. In the nose. After that, the brawl had devolved into a massive fist fight, only ending when the bartender, who reminded Sabine painfully of Old Jho, had called the authorities. Apparently the guy who'd started the fight was a regular troublemaker, so he'd been dragged off to spend the night in a cell while she got to finish her drink.

It was ironic, she decided, that she got into a fight when she was supposed to be celebrating the fact that the war could now safely end. Well, as much as one could celebrate when they only had one person who understood exactly what they'd achieved. Kanan was great, he was her father as much as Aldrich Wren was, but now he was her only link to her old life. And he wanted to be with the Jedi instead of the only member of his family he had left.

She wasn't bitter.

She heard someone come to stand right behind her, the step too heavy and hesitant to be Kanan. Taking another sip of the burning liquor, she said, "Did you not get the message earlier? Back off, or you'll end up with more than a bruised ego."

A gruff voice behind her asked, "Sabine?"

The glass in her hand shattered, but she didn't notice the pain from the shards of glass now embedded in her hand. Whirling around in her seat, she gaped openly at the person behind her. "Zeb?"

He was staring at her, too, like he was afraid she'd vanish. With a disbelieving laugh, she threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder despite the smell that Ezra had always complained about. Zeb held her, cupping her head in one hand as he muttered under his breath, "You're real, you're here, oh, karabast, I can't believe you're here, we got back to Lothal and you weren't there, so we thought you hadn't... had... oh, karabast."

Sabine pulled her face away enough to say, "We left Lothal when you didn't show up after a couple weeks, we thought we were alone-oh, kriffing Sithspawn, you don't know--Force, we've got a lot to talk about."

"I'd say we do," Zeb said as he gently put her down, pulling out the seat next to hers and sinking into it with a quiet huff.

Sabine sat back in her seat, asking, "By ‘we,’ I assume you mean you, Hera, Rex and Chopper?"

Zeb nodded. "And Kallus and the baby. Well, baby. He's nearly a year old."

Sabine laughed, pushing the hair out of her face. "What have you been doing?"

"This and that," Zeb answered noncommittally. "Mostly been using our foreknowledge to the galaxy's advantage. We knew about a lot of disasters before they happened, between Hera, Kallus, Chopper, and Rex, so we were able to save a lot of lives. What about you, what've you been up to?"

Sabine sighed. "We attached ourselves to General Secura's battalion, and managed to spread the word about the control chips quietly enough that none of the higher ups heard about it, but enough that every clone now has had their chip removed. Order 66 can't happen now."

"I'm guessing that's why you're drinking," Zeb smirked. "I know you don't do it unless you’re celebrating." Sabine nodded. After a moment of silence, Zeb frowned. "You keep saying ‘we.’ Who's ‘we?’"

Sabine cringed. How in the galaxy was she supposed to explain this? "Well--"

Her comlink chimed, and she cursed its simultaneously excellent and terrible timing. "Spectre Five here," she said as she answered it, knowing it was either General Secura, or--

_"Spectre Five, this is Spectre One. You're gonna be late for the debrief."_

Zeb was staring at the comlink on her wrist in shock, his mouth hanging open and ears standing nearly straight up. Even over the comm, Kanan's voice was distinctive. Still, she ignored Zeb for the moment and instead replied.

"Sorry, Spectre One, I got a little held up. Be there in twenty."

A familiar-sounding snort rang from over the comm, and Sabine narrowed her eyes. That wasn't Kanan. It was Kanan who replied, though.

_"Just tell me you didn't start the fight."_

"I might have thrown the first punch, but he started it," Sabine insisted as she stood, pushing her chair in and throwing a few credit chips onto the bar to cover her tab. Zeb followed suit behind her, still gaping at her as she hurried out of the building. "And, um, I'm not gonna be alone. I ran into an old friend."

There was silence on the other end. Then, _"who?"_ in a quiet, almost shaky voice.

Sabine glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Zeb was right behind her as she mounted the speeder bike she'd used to get there. She could tell him, but she was pretty sure they both needed to see each other in person to believe it. "We'll be there in a few." She disconnected.

Zeb climbed onto the speeder behind her. "How...?" He managed softly, and she shook her head.

"We're not sure. I've filled him in on everything that happened... after, but we don't know how we're here or how he's alive."

"Right." Zeb said as they took off through traffic. After a couple minutes of silence except for the occasional curses Sabine threw at the rest of the pilots in Coruscanti airspace, he asked, "You're sure it's him?"

Sabine scoffed. "I've been living and working beside him for the last seven months. Yes, I'm sure it's him. He'd be dead by now if I wasn't."

The rest of the ride to the Temple was silent, Zeb hanging on behind her as she sped through the air lanes toward the imposing structure. She checked the time on her chrono as she dodged a taxi. Only forty-five minutes late, and excusable considering that the Council was always running hours behind schedule.

As she drove, Sabine kept going over the conversation over the comm. That moment right before Kanan had asked if she'd started the fight, that little laugh--where had she heard it before? It was driving her crazy as she tried to go through the people she knew who would be alive and who could be on Coruscant, let alone in the Jedi Temple.

No one immediately came to mind. Most of the people she knew would be on their home planets--namely Mandalore, Krownest, and Ryloth--and the rest really wouldn't have reason to be in the Jedi Temple, except Rex, but that wasn't his voice. And if it wasn't a clone, it would have had to have been a Jedi, but the only Jedi she knew were Kanan and--

Sabine felt her heart stop in her chest. A day ago, she would have said that was impossible, but Zeb was holding onto the speeder behind her, and Hera and the others were out there in the galaxy somewhere, so why wouldn't he be here, too? She tightened her grip on the speeder's controls, increasing her speed to an almost dangerous level.

They landed in one of the hangers in the Jedi Temple, Sabine hopping off of the speeder almost before it powered off. Her heart was now thumping too hard in her chest, the sound of her pulse echoing in her ears as she tried to control her breathing. Without waiting to see if Zeb was following--he was, she could hear his footsteps against the stone floor--she took off through the Temple, pulling up her holomap of the building with Kanan's locator on it so she could find him. He was moving, but as she drew closer, his locator stopped underneath the tower in the middle of the Temple, where the Jedi Council met. They were probably waiting for her.

She barreled through the halls, rounding a corner to find herself in an atrium with a bank of elevators against the far wall. General Secura, Commander Bly, and a Togruta were waiting by one of the elevators, but her attention went immediately to the two who were standing in the center of the room.

Kanan was giving her an anxious smile, like he was trying to hide how nervous he was. It was sort of funny that he thought he wasn't an open book to anyone who knew him.

Beside him, bouncing on his heels, was her middle brother. He threw her a grin as she went up to him, which disappeared when she slapped him across the face. Behind her, she heard Zeb's sudden intake of breath when he saw who was in the room and Kanan's gasp when he saw Zeb, but she was too busy slapping Ezra again.

"You _shabla di'kut_ ," she had to fight to keep her voice steady and at a volume that didn't count as shouting. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, Ezra Bridger, so help me, I will hunt you down, beat you to a bloody pulp, and drag you back to the _Ghost_ so you can be grounded for the next eternity."

By the time she was finished, Ezra was grinning broadly, apparently only too happy to be called an idiot. "Missed you, too, 'Bine."

She rolled her eyes, forcing herself not to tear up. "Shut up," she muttered before hugging him.

Across the room, she heard the Togruta whisper, "I'm so confused right now," but she ignored it in favor of turning to watch as Zeb stepped forward cautiously.

"I'm not sure who to..." the Lasat trailed off as Kanan stepped forward, resting a hand on Zeb's forearm.

"It's good to see you, Zeb," Kanan's voice was soft, cracking slightly with emotion. Zeb's ears lay flat against his skull as his shoulders slumped, and he wrapped Kanan into a hug. Beside Sabine, Ezra grinned and darted forward, tackling Zeb and Kanan in a hug. With a smile of her own, Sabine followed, letting the tension that had been building for the last year and a half drain away as she felt Ezra and Zeb both wrap their arms around her.

Behind her, she heard Bly mutter, "Yeah, you're not the only one," and she stifled a laugh. Of course the three of them were very, very confused.

By unspoken agreement, they all stepped back, though Zeb kept a hand on Ezra's and Kanan's shoulders. With a mock glare that did little to hide a grin, the Lasat looked down at the two Jedi. "If either of you pull stunts like those again..."

Kanan threw back his head and laughed. Ezra doubled over, and Sabine was about to check if he was alright when he forced himself upright. His face was still red and chuckles still made his voice shake, but he managed, "You are not near as intimidating as Sabine is."

Sabine grinned and grabbed Ezra in a headlock, rubbing her knuckles into his scalp. "Ow! Sabine!" Ezra exclaimed, but he was still fighting off laughter as he tried to escape her hold.

Beside them, Kanan suddenly sobered. "Zeb, the others--are they--"

"They're here," Zeb answered quickly, raising a hand to cut him off. Sabine released Ezra, who shot her an annoyed look as he turned to focus on what Zeb was saying. "They're not on-planet at the moment, though. Hera took the _Ghost_ , Kallus, and, uh, this one's uncle--" he pointed at Ezra, obviously trying to avoid saying Rex's name in front of a clone who would undoubtedly recognize the name "--to Mandalore, to try to help the situation there. Chopper and I stayed behind, to, um, watch over something Hera didn't want near a potential battlefield."

Kanan's face lit up. "Jacen?"

Zeb gaped for a second, then glanced over at Sabine and realized how he would have known about him. "Yeah, Jacen. Kit's not a year old yet, and he's got us all wrapped around his finger."

Ezra looked back and forth between them all. "I'm confused. Who's Jacen?"

Sabine grinned. She'd forgotten that he wouldn't know who that was. "Our little brother."

"Our--" Ezra cut himself off, clearly trying to do the mental math. She could see the exact moment he put two and two together. His face went red and he gave Kanan an exasperated look. "Dad!"

Kanan grinned, spreading his hands. "Hey, it wasn't just my fault. Hera had a part in it, too."

Ezra grimaced. "Gross..."

As Sabine laughed, Zeb lightly punched Ezra's arm. "I thought you'd just be happy not to be the youngest."

"Oh, no, now he's the middle child," Kanan said, before glancing over his shoulder at General Secura and muttering a curse.

Secura was watching them with a curious expression, Bly's expression was hidden by his helmet, and the Togruta--Force, was that Ahsoka Tano? She was so young--was smiling, although she was obviously confused.

"Well," the Togruta--definitely Ahsoka--said, drawing the word out so that they all knew how awkward the situation was for those that didn't know what was going on. "I'm going to hazard a guess and say this is Sabine?" She directed the question to Ezra, who nodded.

"Yup. Zeb, Sabine, this is Ahsoka Tano," Ezra stopped to stifle a smile at Zeb's expression. "Ahsoka, Garazeb Orrelios and Sabine Jarrus." She couldn't even protest the name. Clan Wren wouldn't recognize her, and Kanan had claimed her as his daughter in front of General Secura, so arguing it would just contradict a story they needed to keep straight. 

Bly crossed his arms. "So your name's Sabine?"

Sabine nodded as Kanan added, "And I'm Kanan Jarrus."

Secura's eyes instantly darted over to Ezra, widening a bit. "Of course," she muttered as Ahsoka stepped forward.

"Can I ask a quick question?" As the four of them all nodded, she grinned and asked, "Which one of you two was it that stole the ship with him when you were out for a meiloorun?"

Sabine burst out laughing. Her face hurt from all this smiling and laughing, honestly, but she wasn't about to stop. Looking over at Ezra, who was grinning fondly, she managed, "you would tell that story."

"It's a good story!" Ezra protested, but he was grinning so broadly she wasn't about to argue with him.

Kanan snorted. "You both got grounded in the end."

Zeb shook his head with a chuckle. "That's what makes it a good story, didn't you know? All the good stories end with him getting grounded."

"Not all of them," Ezra said before turning back to Ahsoka and pointing over his shoulder to Zeb. "It was him, and it was his idea."

"Was not!" Zeb immediately protested, and Kanan raised a hand before they could get into that argument again.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it was, that was years ago." He paused, then exchanged a look with all of them, and Sabine had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Again. Stars, they must all seem like giggling idiots. To her surprise, though, Ahsoka was wearing a similar expression, her face going a slightly deeper color of orange as she tried to keep the laughter in.

General Secura just shook her head, obviously having given up on understanding what was going on. "The Council is waiting on us," she reminded them, and instantly the mood died.

Sabine could feel the anxiety churning in her stomach. Glancing at Kanan, she could see the steely resolve in his eyes, but her hands still shook as they all stepped into an elevator. This was it. When they presented the evidence to the Jedi Council, they would be able to tell them that someone was manipulating the war, and once they knew how thoroughly they were being manipulated, they would start searching for the puppet master. They might even know where to look for him.

Beside her, Bly was messing with his bracers--well, fidgeting, really. There were already Jedi who weren't too fond of the idea of leading an army. Once they found out that the army had been programmed to kill them at the flip of a switch, would they ever trust them? Sabine kind of doubted it, but she also knew Bly was more afraid that the Generals who had been closest to their troops would suddenly decide they couldn't trust them. As much as she doubted that that would happen, she understood how scared he had to be right now.

The doors slid open and the man who'd been waiting there blinked, obviously startled. Beside her, Kanan tensed in surprise, and Ahsoka sighed. "Oh, hey, Skyguy. Sorry we're late."

The tall man just sighed and shook his head. "You, Snips, I'm not surprised by, but you General Secura? I thought you were trying to show me up."

As Secura laughed, Ezra stepped forward. "Sorry, Anakin, it was my fault. I held her up." Instantly, Sabine straightened. No wonder Kanan had tensed. This was Ezra's biological father, and the future Darth Vader. Her hands itched to grab her blasters, but a slender hand grabbed her wrist. 

Ahsoka's voice whispered in her ear, "Please don't shoot him, he hasn't Fallen yet."

Sabine shot her a surprised look, but forced her hands to drop to her sides. General Secura was asking if the Council was ready for them, and at Skywalker's nod, they entered the chamber before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: the council finds out... some of the truth.


	5. Our World Caves in on Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo-hoo! NaNoWriMo is here, and one of the projects I'll be working on is finishing this! Right now, it looks like it's going to be about twenty-two chapters-significantly longer than TLWAL or WWFF. Not that I think you guys will mind :)

Obi-Wan was honestly surprised at the size of the group that entered the Council Chamber. Anakin had Ahsoka next to him, and Aayla had Bly, but Ezra had an arm over the shoulders of a slender young woman with short, colorful hair, equally colorful armor, and a pair of blasters. Behind them were a tall human man and a Lasat, the first Obi-Wan had seen outside the Order since before the war had begun. Despite the crowd of strangers--or perhaps because of them--Ezra seemed totally relaxed, whispering something to the young woman that made her bite back a laugh.

Mace cleared his throat, and the group instantly split up, Aayla standing off to one side with Bly behind her, and the man, woman, and Lasat taking up stations on one side of the door. As Anakin and Ahsoka took up stations on the other side, Ezra hurried across the room to stand behind Obi-Wan's seat, muttering under his breath as he passed.

"They're family, I just found out they're here, they've been working to keep the Order from falling."

Obi-Wan straightened as Ezra's words registered. This was Ezra's family--people who were also from the future. People who had also been doing what they could to keep the galaxy from spiraling into darkness. They were the people who'd been watching over Ezra since he was fourteen, who had taught him how to fight. 

How to be a Jedi.

That certainly explained the burst of emotion that had swept over the Temple just thirty minutes ago.

Obi-Wan met the eyes of the man standing guard by the door, noting the lightsaber on his belt, as he crossed his arms and watched Obi-Wan carefully. Obi-Wan nodded at him respectfully, and the man's posture instantly relaxed. 

Mace was watching Ezra as he leaned against the wall behind Obi-Wan's seat. "Master Kenobi, if you and your Padawan would come forward," he said in a tone of voice that said this was not a suggestion, despite the fact that Aayla was supposed to go first.

Obi-Wan stood and shot Anakin a look. Anakin grimaced, a look that said he was going to stay out of this because he'd been in enough trouble lately. Sighing, Obi-Wan gestured for Ezra to join him in the circle in the middle of the chamber.

All the Council Members' eyes were on them. It was strange to be up here without Anakin when most of them--Mace especially--were eyeing them like they were already planning on scolding them. A part of him thought it was fitting that if the person he was being scolded alongside wasn't Anakin, then of course it would be his son. Another part of him reminded him that Ezra wasn’t Anakin’s son, not in the ways that mattered. Folding his arms in his sleeves, Obi-Wan waited for someone else to say the first word.

Mace sat back in his seat, steepling his fingers as he stared at Ezra, who, to his credit, barely fidgeted. "What is your name, Padawan?" Mace asked in a surprisingly mild voice.

Ezra swallowed and stepped forward. "Lieutenant Ezra Jarrus, sir, of the 212th, formerly of the 501st," he rattled off, as if giving a report.

Yoda hummed from his seat. "Strong you are, with the Force, yes?" At Ezra's nod, the diminutive Master continued. "Notice this, Skywalker and Kenobi did, and transferred you were, so that training, you could have?"

"Yes, Master Yoda," Ezra answered, glancing at Obi-Wan as if he wanted to add more. Obi-Wan shook his head slightly to cut him off.

"Anakin and I made the decision to complete Ezra's training without informing the Council because we knew you would not authorize it, but he needed someone to aid him in controlling his abilities. He'd cut himself off from the Force, and thus his control was not what it should have been."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the man--Jarrus, he could only assume his name was--looking alarmed. Apparently they hadn't had enough time to cover that information. Beside him, Ezra looked down at his feet, clearly ashamed, so Obi-Wan quickly moved the conversation away from the topic.

"I had intended to finish his training to the point that he could defend himself, but if you would permit it--"

"You want him to be admitted to the Jedi Order," Master Shaak Ti said calmly, her hologram flickering as she sat back in her seat on Kamino.

"No," Obi-Wan said, and instantly Ezra's head shot up, looking bewildered and slightly hurt. The rest of the room was murmuring with shock as well, and he could almost feel Anakin's glare burning through the back of his head. "At least, not just him, and not as my Padawan," Obi-Wan added, and he could see the exact moment Ezra realized what he was up to, because he grinned and cast a quick glance at Jarrus, whose eyes were lit with barely suppressed excitement. Next to him, the young woman rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, but there was a fond smile on her face. The Lasat behind them was also grinning while the rest of the Council--and Anakin--exchanged looks that were even more confused than before.

"If not as your Padawan," Ki-Adi Mundi asked, "then whose?"

Agen Kolar sat forward, his fingers laced in his lap as he peered intently at Obi-wan."You said you intended to complete his training. Who began it?"

Obi-Wan casually glanced over his shoulder at Jarrus, silently asking a question, and the man gave a small nod. Permission granted. Obi-Wan turned back to the Council as Jarrus stepped forward, placing a hand on Ezra's shoulder.

"I did," Jarrus's voice was calm, carrying an indescribable heaviness that Obi-Wan recognized. It was the weight that a Jedi Master carried. The rest of the Council recognized it as well, all frowning and sitting up straight. Behind him, Obi-Wan could hear Anakin spluttering in shock while Ahsoka sniggered quietly.

So far, so good. No one was demanding they leave the room.

"And who are you?" Mace demanded.

Jarrus opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted when the door opened. In the doorway stood a tall, familiar Togruta. She was wearing make-up to hide her distinctive markings, but Obi-Wan knew who she was immediately, and he knew his day was about to get more complicated.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Masters--" Ashla began, then cut herself off when she noticed who was standing in the middle of the room. Pausing for a moment to assess the situation--and stare dumbfoundedly at Jarrus--she very quickly changed her mind. "Oh. Nevermind, I'm not sorry. I bring urgent news that may bring an end to the war."

Beside him, Jarrus and Ezra grinned.

_______

"A Sith Lord is behind the clone army?" Mace demanded, grimacing like he had a headache. He probably did. If the Council meeting itself wasn't giving him one, then the inevitable Shatterpoints the conversation would undoubtedly cause would give him one hell of a migraine.

Aayla stood, looking sick as she moved to stand next to Ashla. "It makes too much sense. We recently discovered that there were biochips--meant to control the clones--implanted in the brain of every clone. By the time I learned of it, barely a week ago, the chips had not only been removed from every clone, but they had also been decrypted. The orders…" Aayla cut herself off with a shudder. "They range from anarchy to assassination to the total annihilation of the Jedi Order or the Republic."

Obi-Wan glanced around as the rest of the Order absorbed this information. Most of the Masters wore blank expressions, trying not to let the news shake them too badly. Others, such as Plo Koon and Anakin, looked like they were going to be physically ill. Anakin, especially, was clenching the fist of his mechanical hand with an expression somewhere between enraged and sick.

Obi-Wan wanted to say something, but Ahsoka beat him to it. She pulled him down and murmured something in his ear, and he relaxed slightly. To the rest of the Council she was taking it remarkably well, but Obi-Wan knew the truth. She, like the time-travelers by the chamber's entrance, already knew about the chips. Knew exactly what the Sith had been planning on using them to do.

Yoda tapped the floor with his walking stick. "An investigation, we must open, to discover the identity of this Sith."

"I thought you might say that," Ashla said calmly. "That's why I already began one, and I've found some things you might find interesting." She pulled out a data pad and a holoprojector, activating both and displaying several records.

Obi-Wan sat forward. The identity of the Sith was one of the things Ezra and Ashla had refused to tell the others, so now he was intrigued.

The intrigue lasted until he finished the first paragraph of a report. Across the room, Anakin spluttered, "what the  _ kriff?" _

Ashla cast a sad glance his way, obviously wary of his reaction. "I wish I could tell you that this was forged, but it is genuine. I have more--communication logs, expense reports that follow money from his accounts through multiple fake accounts to weapons manufacturers, holos of him or his lackeys meeting with Count Dooku or some of his lackeys. I'm aware of just how big an accusation I'm making, but Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith Lord we've been looking for."

Beside him, Obi-Wan saw Mace flinch, his whole body tensing as she spoke the words. Anakin looked to be on the verge of collapse, Ahsoka supporting him quietly. She, too, was staring at the projections in shock and abject horror, because she, like him, had had no idea.

No wonder he'd been able to turn Anakin to the Dark Side. Palpatine had been Anakin's friend for years, and had more than earned his trust. If, like Ezra and Ashla had said, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka weren't there for him, then of course he'd turn to the only other person he felt he could trust. And Palpatine had used that.

Obi-Wan was not the type of man to want revenge, or to get enraged to the point that he wanted to kill someone, but at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to drive his lightsaber through Palpatine's blackened heart.

A hand squeezing his shoulders wrenched him out of his thoughts, and he glanced behind him at Ezra, who was watching him with a careful expression. Forcing himself to take a deep and calming breath, Obi-Wan turned his attention back to the meeting.

Kit Fisto had his head in his hands. "What have we done…. What do we do? We can't simply allow him to remain in office, he could eliminate us, or seize control of the Republic--"

"He's already done that," Anakin said in a shaking voice. "There's been talk in the Senate--some of the Senators don't think he'll surrender his powers when the war ends. If they're already afraid of that, then all he needs is to take us out… and he'll try to use our friends and allies to do it."

Aayla nodded. "We can't leave him in power. We have to arrest him--now, before he causes more damage."

Ki-Adi Mundi shook his head. "Can we? We won't be able to convince the Senate, and even if we could, what would we arrest him for? Being a Sith is not a crime; we cannot arrest him simply on those charges. The rest of the Republic will not stand for it."

"So pessimistic," the young woman at the door muttered, pushing off the wall and striding into the center of the room. "Being a Sith might not be illegal, but stealing money from the Senate to fund illegal superweapons--" she pointed to one report, then another "--and consorting with known enemies of the Republic are."

Ashla nodded, meeting Ki-Adi Mundi's eyes. "And the Senate will be convinced. I've already given a copy of this evidence to Senator Amidala, so that she could draft a warrant for his arrest. She commed me just before I arrived; we can move to arrest him."

Plo Koon had been watching her carefully, and Obi-Wan found himself praying that he didn't say something that would expose Ashla's identity. As it was, she'd barely waited for Obi-Wan to vouch for her before diving straight into the matter at hand, so the Council didn't even have her name, but if Plo recognized her--and out of any of the Masters, he would be the one who could--he might not keep it to himself.

The Kel Dor didn't say anything about her identity, though. Folding his hands, he sat back, saying, "’We?’ I understand that you feel a responsibility to see this man brought to justice, but surely you must realize that as Jedi, it is our duty to carry this task out. We cannot risk the lives of civilians or those who are not prepared for this battle by dragging them into it."

Ashla turned to him, a bit of an edge to her gentle smile. "I appreciate the concern, Master, but I have worked, trained, and traveled too far to simply let this matter pass out of my hands. I did not bring it before you to hand it off, but so that we could do this legally, and because I know I cannot beat him alone. But neither can any of you; if this is the Sith Master, he will be more powerful than Dooku, Grievous, or Maul, and none of you could take any of them alone."

"And you think you have something to contribute?" Kit Fisto asked.

Ashla, Ezra, and Obi-Wan all opened their mouths to answer, but Jarrus beat them to it. "She helped me train Ezra; she has more Jedi training than I do. She also has faced a Sith before, something not all of you have done."

Yoda raised a wrinkly eyebrow. "Indeed? What Sith? Tell us, please."

Ashla sent Jarrus a look that said,  _ look what you've done. _ Jarrus shrugged apologetically, and Ashla sighed. "I did not kill him, but I faced Darth Maul, several years ago, and won. He survived the Battle of Naboo--"

"We know," Obi-Wan cut in politely. "Ezra and I have recently returned from ensuring that he will not be a threat in the future." He sent Ashla a significant look, and she nodded, relieved.

"I would give a demonstration of my abilities," Ashla said, turning to face Yoda again, "but something tells me we are pressed for time. We have to act now, before he discovers that we're on to him and goes to ground."

"Very well," Mace said, kneading his forehead with one hand. "The Council members who are still on Coruscant will go and arrest Chancellor Palpatine, the rest are to hold their positions. The war won't stop because we arrest Palpatine. Even if he is the mastermind behind the war, I doubt most of the Separatists know he's pulling the strings." With a final glance around the Chamber, Mace squared his shoulders. "May the Force be with us all."

With that, the Council members who were participating via hologram disconnected, and the Masters who were here rose. Masters Ti, Gallia, Rancisis, and Kcaj were the only ones not on Coruscant; the rest were going to the Senate Building. Obi-Wan heard Plo on a holocall with Jocasta Nu, telling her to have the creche masters gather the younglings, and to collect what she could from the Library. He understood the reasoning; if this went badly, it was imperative that some fragment of the Jedi Order survived, but that didn't make it any easier to hear Plo giving the order to quietly evacuate the Temple.

Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan saw Anakin come up beside him, so he didn't jump when he said, "I have to come with you." Obi-Wan still gave him a surprised look, and Anakin crossed his arms defensively. "He's manipulated us--manipulated me--for years, I can't stand by while you deal with him by yourselves. Besides, I'm one of the best duelists in the Order, and with this much at stake--"

Obi-Wan raised a hand to cut him off. "I agree with you, there is a lot at stake, and I understand not wanting to leave this for someone else to deal with, but I'm not the one you have to convince." Pointing at Yoda and Mace, Obi-Wan watched as Anakin nodded and ran over to plead his case before turning his attention to the small group now huddled in the back of the room.

Ashla was shaking her head in amusement, Jarrus wearing a similar expression next to her. The Lasat was baring his teeth in a grin as Ezra, Ahsoka, and the younger woman talked quickly. It wasn't an entirely happy discussion, though; Obi-Wan could see the edge in their smiles, hear the bite in their voices--hell, the tension among them was so high he could feel it from across the room. They were nervous, scared. As long as they'd been waiting for this day, there was still a lot that could go wrong.

As he got closer, Obi-Wan could make out what they were saying.

"Except Ahsoka wasn't framed for bombing the Temple, I don't think that even happened--" the young woman was saying, but Ezra cut her off.

"Even if it had, it probably wouldn't have been as bad because Tarkin couldn't have been there to exacerbate it--"

"Why not?" Jarrus interrupted, his voice calm, especially compared to the frantic pace the younger ones were talking at.

Ezra winced. "He got killed on a mission."

"Ezra..." Jarrus groaned, and Ezra raised his hands, looking like he was about to defend himself, but Obi-Wan cut in.

"While I'm sure this debate is fascinating, we're preparing to leave. Ashla, Master Jarrus, I believe you want to accompany us?"

As Ashla quietly confirmed, Jarrus narrowed his eyes but nodded, resting a hand on the lightsaber hanging from his belt. "Yes, I would."

Immediately, Ezra and the young woman squawked in protest, and he leveled a heavy look at them. “I need to see this through. I know it’s dangerous, but everything we’ve been doing up to this point has been, too, and it’s been leading up to this. I can’t let it pass out of my hands now.”

“If you’re going, we are, too,” the young woman insisted, and Ezra nodded.

“We’ve put just as much into this as you have, we can’t back down now, either.”

Jarrus immediately shook his head. “No, absolutely not. None of you are going anywhere near this fight.” The Lasat made to protest, and Jarrus raised a hand. “Zeb, I know I can’t order you around, so I’m not going to try, but for my piece of mind, I’d appreciate it if you focused on evacuating the civilians. You won’t be in the Sith’s way then.”

The Lasat--Zeb, apparently--sighed but nodded reluctantly. “Rather not have a Red Blade focusing on me anyway.”

“So you’ll let Zeb tag along, but not us?” Ezra demanded, gesturing at the young woman as he did. 

“Yes,” Jarrus said firmly. “I’m not risking losing either of you.”

“That’s a load of  _ osik _ and you know it,” the young woman said, and Ezra nodded again.

“We can't risk losing you, either.  _ Dad-- _ ” his voice hitched as he looked at Jarrus beseechingly, “I just got you back, I can’t…”

Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, forgetting for a moment that Ezra really didn’t like being touched there. “I’ll look after him, and we’ll have some of the best duelists in the Order with us.” Ezra really didn’t look reassured. In fact he looked like he was about to keep arguing, but Ahsoka cut in before he could.

“Is Anakin going?”

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder at Anakin, who gave him a grim look but nodded, a silent sort of  _ I’ve got your back, _ and Obi-Wan turned back to the Padawan. “Yes, but no, you aren’t.”

Instantly Ahsoka opened her mouth to protest, but Jarrus cut in, his voice full of authority. “All of you are too young, and this is possibly the greatest threat the Order will face this millennium. There is no way we’d let you tag along.” Ahsoka still looked upset, and, spotting Anakin, hurried off to convince him to let her go.

“That’s not fair,” Ezra insisted as she left, “We’re legally adults--well, Sabine and I are--and we know how to fight!”

“And I don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

“I’ve had as much training as you did the first time you beat a Sith!”

“And I’ll remind you what that cost,” Jarrus said firmly, narrowing his eyes, which, oddly, drew attention to the scar that ran across them. Honestly, how in the world he could even see was a mystery. The wound looked like it should have at least partially gouged out his eyes.

Ezra immediately winced and hung his head. Next to him, the young woman--Sabine?--put a hand on his shoulder, keeping her eyes locked firmly on Jarrus. “We can help Zeb with the civilians--”

“Or you can get to wherever Chopper and Jacen are hiding, and get them ready to leave the planet if this goes south. Contact Hera, let her know what’s happening. That’s an order,” Jarrus said firmly, before softening his gaze and setting a hand on each of the younger humans’ shoulders. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Ezra’s voice was small when he said, “Last time you weren’t.”

It was Ashla who spoke up next. “This isn’t Lothal, Ezra, and it’s not going to be like Lothal. I’ll look after him, I promise.”

Sabine and Ezra both slumped, defeated, and exchanged a look. “Fine,” Sabine said softly, “but you comm us the minute the fight’s over.”

Jarrus nodded, then glanced over to where the rest of the Council was standing. “Alright, I think we’re about to go. Zeb, give them the address. No lollygagging on the way there, got it?”

The two young adults nodded--almost a hair too quick--and Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, Mace called his name, gesturing him over, and Obi-Wan shared one last look with Jarrus, Zeb, and Ashla before they headed over to the lifts. One way or another, this was about to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus: Ahsoka, as soon as the door closes: We're going after them, aren't we.  
> Ezra and Sabine, together: Yup.


	6. For the Weight of the World Was Placed on Your Shoulders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe this chapter was originally the climax of the story? Yeah, I'm glad that didn't happen. I like the longer story, and I have a feeling I'm not the only one.

If Anakin wasn’t so busy trying not to freak out, he might have wondered who the newcomers were and what they were whispering about in the back of the LAATi. As it was, he was barely paying enough attention to Obi-Wan, who was laying out the plan, to comprehend his part in it.

Palpatine was a Sith. He was a karking Sith and Anakin had trusted him, had confessed all the secrets that up until a few months ago he didn’t think he could ever tell Obi-Wan, had taken his advice, had karking told him about Padme—

Oh, sweet Force. Padme. If she was still in the Senate building, she was in danger, and not just her, but their child as well. Palpatine—Sidious—knew about their marriage, about the baby—if she didn’t get out of there, she was going to be caught in the crossfire, and Anakin would put good credits on Sidious using her as leverage.

He had half a mind to comm her and tell her to go home, to get off the planet if possible, but before he could, Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder.

“She’ll be fine, Anakin. Ashla told her about Palpatine, remember? She’ll get somewhere safe.”

Anakin nodded, but that wasn’t terribly reassuring. He didn’t know this ‘Ashla,’ or how Obi-Wan knew her, or why he trusted her so much. That, on top of the fact that one of his closest friends was actually a Sith, left him feeling unmoored, like his world had been turned upside down, like the foundation had crumbled and left his entire life lopsided and wrong.

The LAATis descended to land on one of the landing platforms on the Senate building, and Anakin forced himself to take a deep breath and calm the kriff down. Panicking would do absolutely nothing right now.

Besides, none of the other Jedi seemed even slightly close to a panic attack right now. Aayla was tense, sure, and Obi-Wan was frowning, but they both seemed more concerned than panicked. The other seven Council members all seemed frighteningly serene, as if arresting the Dark Lord of the Sith was an everyday occurrence.

“Relax, Master Skywalker,” the Togruta, Ashla, said from behind him, stuttering a bit on his name, like she hadn’t been sure she needed to add it. “The Force is with us, and we are with the Force. All will happen as the Force wills it.”

The mantra-like words and the soothing voice helped calm him down even more, and he sent her a grateful smile before squaring his shoulders and stepping out of the LAATi.

Watching the Lasat depart their little group, Anakin vaguely recalled that he was headed to the main security room to start quietly evacuating people. He’d put out the general alarm once they had arrived at the Chancellor’s office, where the helpful guard on the landing platform had told them he currently was.

The other twelve of them had the simple job. Go to the Chancellor and arrest him, fight him if necessary. It certainly wasn’t the easy job, but it was less complicated and relied on fewer variables. If the men at the security room were Palpatine’s, the Lasat would have to convince them to let him into the room to put out the alerts or knock them out. If they were brothers, well, Obi-Wan had given him a holomessage containing orders that he was to show the troopers. Plus, the Lasat would have to deal with people who stubbornly refused to leave, or who didn’t understand they were supposed to… Compared to dealing with people, going toe-to-toe with a Sith Lord would be a walk in the park.

Yoda climbed up onto Master Windu’s shoulder, and they all took off at a brisk walk. Anakin fell in next to Obi-Wan, who gently bumped shoulders with him in an act that could have been perceived as an accident, but Anakin knew was a reminder that Obi-Wan was right beside him.

They all climbed into elevators—the eight council members, two newcomers, Aayla and Anakin wouldn’t all fit in the same one—and selected the level that had Palpatine’s office. It was hot and cramped, with no elbow room due to the six people inside, and the amount of nervous tension radiating through the small compartment was making Anakin antsy.

As the panel beeped to let them know they’d passed another level, Master Plo, the only other council member inside other than Obi-Wan, said calmly, “This fight may be long and difficult, but we will achieve victory as long as we persevere. We cannot give up; the galaxy is relying on us to endure.”

Exchanging a nod with the others in the elevator, Anakin tightened his grip on his lightsaber. The door slid open with a disconcertingly cheery ding and they all filed out again, exchanging looks before briskly walking down the hall toward the office.

Windu halted the group right outside the door. With one last glance over the group to make sure everyone was ready, he palmed the door open and led them in.

Palpatine was waiting for them. “Master Windu, Master Yoda,” he said, and now that he knew to listen for it, Anakin could hear the disdain dripping off of Palpatine’s voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It’s over, Palpatine.” Windu’s voice was hard. “You are under arrest for treason and conspiracy against the Republic, and for the murder of countless innocents.”

Palpatine kept his mask on, and for a moment, Anakin dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, Ashla was wrong, all the reports she’d found and evidence she’d gathered were wrong. Then Palpatine turned to him, a look of almost mock surprise on his face. “Anakin, my boy, surely you don’t all believe this absurdity?”

And just like that, Anakin knew that his friendship with Palpatine had been something much more sinister. Palpatine had been grooming him, wanted him to join him. He felt sick, but lit his lightsaber anyway.

Palpatine took that as the answer it was and his mask dropped. “Stupid boy.” He threw his hands up and his desk went hurtling toward them. Anakin ducked on instinct, but someone—Master Yoda, he realized—batted it away before it could hit any of them. A moment later, the doors all slid open right as Palpatine himself leapt into battle.

Out of the corner of his eye, Anakin saw Yoda launch himself at the Sith, but his attention was caught by the Coruscant guards—nat-borns, all loyal to Palpatine—who were raising their blasters. Before they fired off a single volley, lightsabers were ignited and held in ready positions. Anakin was surprised to see Ashla’s pair of white blades, but all too soon his attention was grabbed by the volley of blaster bolts headed his way.

Deflecting bolts was habit to him by now, which meant it took him all of a few seconds to deflect them back into the guards’ chests. They fell, and Anakin let himself turn back to the lightsaber duel between Master Windu, Master Yoda, Master Kolar, and Palpatine. He had enough time to a red blade carving through Master Kolar’s chest before something burning lanced across his back, making him scream and fall to his knees, turning to see what had hit him as he did so.

Guards in red, wielding electropikes now stood in the doorways, a few already sparring with the rest of Anakin’s companions. Master Fisto had stepped back to help Windu and Yoda, leaving the rest of them to fend off the new guards.

One such guard was standing above him. His pike was poised to strike again, and Anakin closed his eyes. He’d dropped his lightsaber when he’d fallen, and he knew he couldn’t move fast enough to get it back or to dodge, not with the electricity still causing tremors in his body and the pain from the blow making movement nearly impossible.

“Master!” he heard someone yell, and opened his eyes in time to see a green lightsaber intercept the descending pike. A yellow one entered the guard’s neck between the plates of armor, and Anakin gaped.

“Ahsoka! What’re you doing here?!”

She just shot him a grin. “You really thought we’d stay behind?”

Struggling to his feet, Anakin called his lightsaber back to his hand, ducking another volley of blaster bolts coming from the next room. “What were you thinking?” He demanded.

“That you could use back-up!” Ezra called from where he’d just Force-yanked a guard away from the man who’d called himself Ezra’s master. “So we brought back-up!”

“Yes, because I’m sure the three of you can do so much against a literal Lord of the Sith!” the man exclaimed, sounding understandably ticked off.

_ “Not just the three of them, Sir!” _ Oh, and Anakin had never been so happy to hear Rex’s voice over the comms. _ “We’re evacuating civilians now, they filled us in on the way here! Commander, your squad’s on their way up!” _

Anakin had enough time to huff in exasperation before suddenly Palpatine was upon them. He threw Ahsoka into the wall, and Anakin cried out. He wanted to chase after her, but instead he locked ‘sabers with Palpatine. Behind Palpatine, Yoda and Obi-Wan threw themselves into the duel.

Palpatine fended them off with one saber while pushing the other one into Anakin’s face. “We could have ruled the galaxy together, Anakin—you should have joined me!”

Instead of answering, Anakin kicked him in the knee, leaping away as the red blade arced through the place he’d been standing a moment before. Behind him, Ahsoka groaned as she regained consciousness, and Anakin pulled her up to her feet.

Right now, Windu, Yoda, and Obi-Wan were all facing Palpatine, the other Jedi Masters busy fighting off the Chancellor’s guards. Master Fisto was injured, holding his right arm to his chest, and Masters Kolar and Tiin were motionless on the floor.

Seeing that she was more of a liability than a help, Anakin pushed Ahsoka toward the door. “Go help Rex with the civilians, take Ezra and his friend with you! Go!” When Ahoska hesitated, he insisted. “That’s an order!”

With a nod, she took off, grabbing Ezra and his friend, who was blasting the red guards to little effect, and pulling them out the door. Anakin breathed a quick sigh of relief that they were safe now before taking in the situation.

Palpatine had shoved Obi-Wan back, and was now dancing between Windu, Yoda, and Plo Koon. Anakin raced forward, about to make sure Obi-Wan was alright, but another guard jumped in his face and he had to duck to avoid the swinging pike. The guard slashed again, and Anakin quickly stepped back, only to lunge forward and score a hit on the guard’s abdomen. With a hiss of pain, the guard stumbled back, only for a blue blade to suddenly burst out of his chest.

Anakin nodded his thanks to the bearded man—he really needed to learn his name—and turned back to the main duel in time to see Yoda get flung through the window and Windu take a blow across his chest.

Amid screams of, “No!” Palpatine shoved everyone off their feet. Anakin landed hard against the foot of one of the room’s statues, but quickly scrambled to his feet.

Palpatine was gone. He’d vanished while they were down, and Anakin swore. “Where’d he go?”

Obi-Wan shook his head and pulled out his comm. “Zeb, shut down all air traffic in the area, Sidious got away.”

_ “He what?” _ The Lasat demanded. _ “I’m on it, but you let him get away?” _

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and put his comm away, gesturing at Anakin, Ashla, and the other newcomer to follow him. Racing out the door, Anakin was dismayed to see the hallway lined with bodies of the Coruscant guard, and a few from the 501st. Somewhere below them, he could hear blaster fire and multiple lightsabers clashing, and a chill ran through his veins. There were only two people with lightsabers who weren’t still in the office, and he’d sent both of them out here.

With another burst of speed, Anakin surged forward, finding a window down onto a landing pad below them. He could see Ezra’s men—two of them were down but moving—firing at the figure in black. Ezra’s friend was beside them, doing the same, but the red blades were deflecting all of the blaster bolts, and somehow fending off the two green ‘sabers and the yellow shoto. Ahsoka and Ezra were outmatched.

With a glance at Obi-Wan, Anakin plunged his saber into the window, Obi-Wan doing the same opposite him. Together, they cut a hole on the blaster-proof glass and jumped out, the other two right behind them.

Right as they hit the ground running, a few hundred yards away from Palpatine and the others, Ahsoka went down. “No!” Anakin shouted, but they were still too far away. Palpatine knocked Ezra’s ‘saber away and shot a bolt of purple lightning out of his hand, causing Ezra to go down as well, his blaster clattering to the ground.

Palpatine levitated both of the young Jedi, throwing them through the open ramp of a nearby shuttle, only for a blaster bolt to slam into his side. Ezra’s friend, the girl with the colorful armor, was charging him, blasters out and aimed at him, but Palpatine just laughed.

“Sabine, no!” The man yelled next to Anakin, but they were still almost a hundred yards away, too far to do anything as Palpatine grabbed her around the neck with the Force.

Ezra’s squad was still firing, but Palpatine held the girl—Sabine—up as a human shield, and Adenn called out, “Hold your fire!”

Turning to give them a smirk, Palpatine jumped into the waiting shuttle, dragging Sabine with him. The ramp began to close, and Anakin leapt forward, catching the door with his lightsaber right as it closed. Before he could cut into it, the shuttle took off, and he fell back onto the ground, staring at the shuttle as it took his friends away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten point to stiltsrosko, who guessed that Ezra was going to be kidnapped. Bet no one saw Ahsoka and Sabine coming along for the ride, though.  
> Anakin's POV is always so fun to explore, especially now with the revelation that Palps is a Sith. Hope you guys enjoyed, and please leave comments and kudos as those really feed my muse.


	7. ‘Til the Siren Sounds, I’m Safe

None of the ships in orbit had been able to respond in time to stop the shuttle from escaping, especially with the no kill order in place. They couldn’t shoot the shuttle down, not when Ezra, Ahsoka, and Sabine were inside.

It ticked Anakin off to no end that no one had been able to catch Palpatine, or even take note of which direction he’d headed in. That might have given them a place to look for him. Instead, they were left with a list of planets he couldn't be on, and that list was alarmingly small.

“You’re positive he wouldn’t have headed for Dooku’s fleet?” He asked for the umpteenth time, and Obi-Wan shook his head.

The room they were trying to form a strategy in was empty except for the two of them. The dark lighting matched Anakin’s current mood. Most of the Masters who’d gone up against Palpatine directly were injured or, in the case of Masters Windu, Tiin, and Kolar, dead, and now his Padawan and the boy he’d come to consider a younger brother were captured, possibly being tortured. The only good news was that Anakin was sure they weren’t dead—or at least, Ahsoka wasn’t. He didn’t have bonds with the other two.

“Dooku’s fleet is scattered across the Outer Rim, and is engaged in multiple battles at this very moment. He’d be more likely to call some part of the fleet to him than head into the middle of battle himself. Remember, Anakin, he’s a puppet master, not a fighter.” Obi-Wan said tiredly.

Anakin grimaced, looking down at his feet. “Trust me, I know.”

A gentle wave of empathy washed through him from Obi-Wan, who said, “We were all fooled, Anakin, none of us knew. I swear, if I had, I never would have let him get anywhere close to you.”

“I don’t blame you, Master.” The silent ‘I blame me’ hung in the air between them, and Obi-Wan took a half-step toward him.

“It’s not your fault, Anakin.”

“I sent her out there, Master. I did that. I thought she would be safe, but I just put her in more danger and now she’s—” He couldn’t finish the sentence, choking on the lump in his throat she tore his gaze away from Obi-Wan.

A gentle hand on his arm made him look back at Obi-Wan. “She would have been in just as much danger if you hadn’t sent her out. You were trying to protect her, and she knows that.”

Anakin nodded. He could only hope Obi-Wan was right.

________

Ezra groaned as he woke up. His mouth tasted like metal, and he hurt all over, especially his chest. It felt like someone had taken a lightsaber to his heart, and he could feel it beating erratically.

“Ezra. Ezra, wake up,” someone said above him, shaking him, and he groaned again.

“Five more minutes,” he begged, not wanting to move his body any more than he had to. The person shook him again, and he decided he probably wasn’t getting his five minutes. Blearily, he opened his eyes, and was both relieved and alarmed to see Sabine kneeling over him. Relieved, because that meant the last day hadn’t been a fever dream, but alarmed because behind her he could see the red glow of a forcefield penning them in. They were prisoners.

Racking his brain, he tried to remember how they’d gotten here, and came up with a vague memory. “Ahsoka?”

“She’s here,” Sabine assured him, “Banged up, but alive. She hasn’t woken up yet.”

Ezra forced himself to sit up, groaning the whole time. A glance over at Sabine showed that she was fine, although her voice was a little hoarse. On the opposite side of the room, Ahsoka was slumped against the wall, an angry red wound on her left lek. It looked like a surface wound, but Ezra knew that hurting a lek could cause permanent damage.

With another groan, he pulled himself to his hands and knees and crawled over to Ahsoka’s side, Sabine right beside him as she tried to make sure he didn’t pitch over. Carefully, he pulled Ahsoka into his lap, cradling her head and trying to reach out with the Force to assess her condition.

He ran into a solid wall. Not a shielding wall, not something Ahsoka had thrown up, but something keeping him from accessing the Force at all. He could feel it, vaguely, like a humming under his skin, but he couldn’t use it for anything, including…

He checked, and yep, his newly restored bond with Kanan was strangled nearly to the point of non-existence. No communication, but Kanan was there. He knew he was looking for them. Probably frantically.

“Dammit,” he muttered, and Sabine raised an eyebrow. “Something about this place is dampening our Force abilities,” he explained, and she nodded.

“So no Force healing?”

Ezra shook his head, readjusting Ahsoka so she’d be more comfortable. “She’ll wake up when she wakes up.” Sabine didn’t say anything, just kind of watched him with a sad expression. “Hey,” he said, grabbing her arm and tugging her down to sit next to him so he could rest his head on her shoulder. “I missed you, ‘Bine.”

“Missed you, too, Ez,” she whispered, and Ezra looked up to check and see if she was crying. She was, a little, but the moment she caught him looking, she dashed the tears away and tried for a confident smile. “Hey, just think, between Kanan and Skywalker, the Council will have no choice but to send a rescue mission.”

Ezra smirked. “And Obi-Wan. He’s stubborn when he wants to be.”

Another sad expression, and Ezra realized what the problem was. “Hey, Sabine,” he said, sitting up, “they’re not replacements. None of you guys are. My family’s just grown a little bit. I now have another older brother-figure, and a younger sister,” he gestured to Ahsoka, “plus whatever the hell Obi-Wan is in our weird family unit. But I don’t want to replace you guys. Just like you guys didn’t replace my other adoptive parents.”

Sabine gave a wet snort. “You do realize that you just said Anakin Skywalker is like your older brother, right?”

“Yeah, the irony is pretty great, don’t you think?” His biological father had become like an older brother to him. Yeah, that wasn’t weird at all.

After a minute, Sabine asked, “What do you think he’s planning?”

Ezra snorted. “Nothing good. If he… I think he targeted us, and I don’t know if that was because the two of us,” he gestured between himself and Ahsoka, “are close to Anakin and you were just collateral, or if…” He trailed off, the unsaid words of ‘he knows about the time-travel’ hanging heavily in the air.

“There’s another possibility,” Sabine said hesitantly. “He wanted Anakin, right? Well, what if he sees the two of you as potential… replacements.” She practically spat the last word, like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

“We’d die before we Fell,” He said, hoping that that was the truth. In his case, it might not be, not when he’d used the Dark Side before.

Sabine grimaced. “It might not come to that. If he took me to use as a bargaining chip and not because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, then it might be me who dies first. After all, I’m expendable.” Ezra opened his mouth to argue, but she raised a hand. “In his eyes, I’m expendable,” she corrected, “I know, I know. And you know that’s not what I meant.”

With a huff, Ezra sat back, only to startle when Ahsoka groaned. Quickly, he sat back up, cradling her head and being careful not to touch her wounded lek as he held her head steady.

“Careful,” he warned her as she lifted a hand to her lek, which had to be killing her. Her eyes fluttered open and she moaned.

“Ow,” She whispered, and Ezra laughed at the understatement. “Who set my lek on fire?”

Sabine grimaced. “Sidious.”

That cut the somewhat light-hearted mood short. Carefully, Ezra helped Ahsoka sit up, and she sat back against the blackened metal walls, grimacing as she cradled her injured lek. The whole room was filled with an ominous silence, and for a minute, Ezra just let himself look around, noting any and all possible escape routes.

The door was an obvious one; if the forcefield went down at any point, the three of them could easily overpower any guards that were there to deal with them. There was a small vent in the ceiling, but it was too small for any of them to fit through.

Unfortunately it was also too small to properly ventilate the room. Ezra wiped the sweat off his brow and grimaced at how stifling the hot air was. On top of the ache in his muscles, he was having difficulty breathing and the metal that made up the cell was warm enough to blister skin if he were to rest against it too long. All in all, this was one of the worst cells he’d been in in his life, and that was saying something because he’d been in a lot of awful cells.

The good news was that there was no obvious camera, but that didn’t mean Sidious couldn’t hear what they were saying. They’d have to be careful what they said so as not to reveal the time travel.

“So,” Sabine said as she made herself comfortable, “Ahsoka, tell me. What’s the stupidest thing Ezra’s done while you’ve known him?”

Ezra opened his mouth to protest, but Ahsoka beat him to it. With a grin, she tapped her chin, pretending to think. “Well, that’s a toss-up between ‘forgetting’ to tell us he was a Jedi, and making himself a target on Kadavo.”

Sabine frowned. “Kadavo… I’m not familiar with that place. What happened there?”

“Ezra lost an arm,” Ahsoka said bluntly, and Sabine’s eyes bugged out.

“He  _ what?!”  _ Turning to Ezra, she demanded, “Is that true?”

Ezra winced. “Technically, no. I lost the arm on the  _ Resolute,  _ not on Kadavo.”

_ “Ezra!” _ Sabine exclaimed, and he quickly raised his hands.

“It wasn’t my idea! Kix just didn’t have a choice.”

Sabine sighed. “Which one?” She asked tiredly, and Ezra pulled off his left glove, waggling the mechanical fingers for her to see. She grimaced. “They couldn’t have gotten you one with synthskin?”

“What’d be the point?” Ezra asked as he tugged his glove back on. “I’m probably gonna lose this hand at some point in the war, or burn it. Basically until things settle down, it’d be a waste of synthskin.”

Ahsoka nodded. “Looks creepy, though. Skyguy’s is the same, and he keeps insisting he’ll get synthskin when the war’s over, but something tells me he’ll just stick to gloves.”

Sabine shuddered. “Well, I’m not giving you an option. You’re getting synthskin, I’m getting  _ beskar’gam,  _ and Kanan’s getting married.”

“Oh, for sure,” Ezra agreed. “I mean, they already live together, have kids together, call each other pet names, might as well make it official, right?”

Ahsoka laughed. “I call being a bridesmaid!” Ezra gave her a look, and she shrugged innocently. “What? I might not know the bride, but I missed Anakin and Padme’s wedding, I’m not missing Kanan’s. What’s her name, anyway?”

Realizing who she was asking about, Ezra answered quickly, “Hera. You’ll like her.”

Ahsoka hummed an agreement, and they lapsed into silence, the joking atmosphere fading as the sombre reality of their situation set in. It was the three of them against a literal Lord of the Sith, and Ezra vaguely realized that this was exactly why Kanan had insisted they stay behind. They really should have obeyed orders, because to top it all off, they had no idea where they were, and if he had to guess, he’d say that Kanan and the others had no idea either.

It still seemed surreal. Kanan was  _ alive. _ The rest of the Spectres were  _ here. _ Charger… Charger was dead. A tear found its way onto his cheek, and he turned his head away so neither of the girls would see him cry. He’d had no time to process any of it, really, before he’d been thrown into this mess. One of his first real friends in this time period, gone, just like that. It didn’t seem right. Charger was supposed to be there, watching his back, and while Adenn and the rest had done their job as well as they could, there was a vital piece of their team missing, and he knew the others had felt it.

With a chill, he hoped they were all okay. He knew Lockjaw and Club had both been hit, but he didn’t know if they’d survived. He prayed that they had. If the Force had any kind of compassion, it’d let him keep some of his friends.

…Except that it already had. It had let him keep Sabine, Hera, Zeb… everyone. It had even given Kanan back. If there was some sort of give-and-take with the Force, he’d wager they were just about even now. Anakin hadn’t Fallen, the Jedi were all still around, and Ezra got his family. That seemed fair.

If only Sidious would get the memo. It was supposed to be over now, with the Sith gone and everyone getting their happy-ever-after. Instead, him and the two people he regarded as sisters were captured, and the others were probably out there losing their karking minds. Even Kanan. No, he decided with a soft snort. Definitely Kanan.

_______

Kanan was about to go out of his karking mind. “They what?”

Master Kenobi sighed. “They think it would be best to focus on the situation here on Coruscant, especially seeing as we lost three Council members and four others are in the medbay. Where you should be as well,” he added, turning to General Skywalker.

“I’ll see a medic when Ahsoka and Ezra do, not before.”

“And Sabine,” Kanan reminded, because they had no way of knowing if she was alright, or even alive. Ahsoka and Skywalker had a bond, and Kanan was clinging to his with Ezra, even though it wasn’t telling him anything, just that Ezra was alive, but Sabine? She could already be dead and Kanan would have no idea, and that terrified him even more than he already was.

Master Kenobi huffed, dragging a hand over his face. “Anakin… You need to be seen to or you won’t be able to come with us when we go.”

“I thought you said the Council said we couldn’t,” Ashla said.

Kenobi looked around the small side hall they were in surreptitiously before turning back to face her. “I’m working on convincing them, and if they don’t agree soon, we’ll just have to go anyway.”

Kanan nodded in agreement. It’d be better if they had the full weight of the Jedi Order and the Senate’s approval behind them, but with the Senate scrambling to figure out who was in charge, who was a lackey of Palpatine, and how to even go about electing a new Chancellor, the latter was unlikely to happen, and the former had already outright denied help.

“Hang on, who’s we?” Skywalker demanded, and oh, Kanan knew that tone. That was Ezra’s I’m-trying-not-to-sound-like-a-brat-but-I-strongly-disagree-with-you-and-here’s-why tone. Given how Master Kenobi raised an eyebrow, it had the same connotations from his biological father.

“Well, I was definitely going to be coming with you, and I assume—”

Ashla cut him off. “We’re coming as well.”

Skywalker bristled. “Why? What possible reason could you have for going up against Palpatine? You may have lightsabers but you’re no Jedi.”

As Ashla softly huffed a laugh, Kanan straightened, looking Skywalker dead in the eye. “I’m not going because of Palpatine, I’m going because of Ezra.”

Stepping closer to Kanan, Skywalker demanded, “What’s he to you? I’ve never heard him mention you before, and now you’re suddenly here claiming to be a part of his life, when we’ve been the ones watching his back and taking care of him—”

Master Kenobi cut in, “Anakin—” but Skywalker barreled on like he hadn’t heard.

“You don’t get to just stroll in when some of us have put actual work into a relationship—”

“Anakin!” Master Kenobi cut in again, this time grabbing Skywalker’s arm and tugging him back a step or two.

“We weren’t lying in the Council chambers,” Kanan told him, trying to ignore the heartache that every word Skywalker had said had caused. “I am Ezra’s Master, and more than that, I’m his father. I put the work in years before you knew he even existed. I’ve taken care of him for years, watched his back when he was facing his worst demons, helped him back up when he stumbled. Don’t you  _ dare  _ tell me I don’t deserve a relationship with him.” Deflating, Kanan sighed. “Trust me, I already know I don’t.”

Skywalker was staring at him, dumbstruck. Ashla, however, reached forward and grabbed Kanan’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “You do deserve him, Kanan, don’t let anyone—” she shot a glare at Skywalker— “tell you you don’t.”

“Besides, not everything Anakin just said is true. He did mention you, frequently, if that makes you feel any better.” Master Kenobi turned to Skywalker. “Every time he mentioned his dad, this is who he meant.”

Skywalker nodded, a chagrined look on his face. He wouldn’t meet Kanan’s eyes now, which Kanan was kind of okay with. He had, after all, just aired his self-esteem issues again, this time in front of Master Kenobi and Ashla, not to mention he’d claimed Ezra as his son in front of his actual, biological father. There was no way Skywalker knew, but it still made Kanan feel awkward on top of being embarrassed.

Ashla cleared her throat. “Well, since we didn’t have time for it earlier, we should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Ashla, and this is Kanan Jarrus.”

Skywalker hesitated, then reached out a hand. “Call me Anakin.”

“And please, call me Obi-Wan,” Master Kenobi said, looking pointedly at Kanan. Ashla probably already called him Obi-Wan by habit, so of course he was the culprit that necessitated the remark. Still, Kanan nodded as he shook Anakin’s hand.

“I’m, uh, sorry for lashing out,” Anakin said awkwardly, and wow, the Hero With No Fear was awkward with apologies? That would have blown Caleb’s mind. To him, he’d always seemed larger than life, flawless in the way only childhood heroes could be. That had been the same for Kanan, up until Ezra’s revelation that Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader were the same person.

Kanan just gave a small half-smile and reassured him, “I know, you’re just scared.” Anakin looked almost offended until he added, “I’m scared too.”

“I don’t think any of us want to think about what Sidious could be doing to them right now, and we have to try to put that out of our minds,” Obi-Wan said. “At this very moment they’re in danger, and we need to focus on that, not what they could be going through.”

_______

“I’m bored,” Ahsoka muttered. “How can I be imprisoned by the big bad Sith Lord, and be bored?”

Ezra groaned. “Don’t jinx it.” He preferred to stay un-tortured, thank you very much. He’d had quite enough of that for a lifetime.

“She does have a point,” Sabine said. “You’d think he would have done something by now.”

They’d all been conscious, taking turns sleeping for what felt like at least a full rotation. Plus however much time they’d all been unconscious, and they’d been in the Sith’s clutches for as long as two or three days, and still. Nothing. It was odd, and the dread of what he could be planning was making the waiting even more excruciating.

“We thoroughly wrecked his plans,” Ahsoka pointed out after a minute. “He’s probably trying to figure out how to turn this around.”

Sabine nodded, and Ezra huffed in agreement. “We took away his pawns in the clones, and his queen in keeping Anakin from joining him. Now he’s down half his pieces, of course he’s going to be scrambling to find a new strategy. He has no army and no apprentice.”

“I would not be so certain about that,” a deep voice said from the doorway, and Ahsoka immediately flinched. The three of them turned in unison to see a tall gentleman in a cloak with a ‘saber on his belt standing behind the forcefield.

“Dooku,” Ahsoka spat, and the man raised an eyebrow.

“I had hoped that Obi-Wan would be able to pass some manners down to you, but alas, it appears he has failed in that regard. It would seem that task now falls to me.”

Ezra snarled and launched himself to his feet, putting himself between Ahsoka and Sabine and Dooku. “Touch them and I’ll kill you.”

Dooku  _ tsked _ . “Not very Jedi-like, young man. Anger does not suit you.”

“I’m not angry, I’m protective,” Ezra bit out, and Dooku just chuckled.

Ahsoka gently pushed Ezra aside and came to stand in front of Dooku, ignoring Ezra’s protests. “What do you and Sidious want?”

Dooku’s eyes glittered dangerously, and Ezra swallowed a lump in his throat. That was not a good sign. “You will find out soon enough. This place will break even the most stubborn of Jedi.”

With that, he gave a dramatic twirl of his cloak and left. Ezra let himself relax marginally as he sank to the ground. Ahsoka came back over and sat down, leaning against Ezra’s shoulder, and a moment later, Sabine mirrored her.

“This is bad,” Sabine muttered, and Ezra huffed.

Ahsoka shifted so that she was sitting closer to Ezra and Sabine, mumbling, “We should have stayed behind,” as she did.

Ezra huffed again, louder this time. “We shouldn’t have been in this war in the first place. We were all just kids. We weren’t supposed to be heroes, but we were sent out to win or die anyway, and now we’ll never be those kids again.”

“Woah, that was deep,” Sabine said, smiling sadly. “You doing okay, baby brother?”

“Not the baby anymore,” he reminded her, and she sighed. “What?”

“I really wanted to be there, when he was born, but I wasn’t. If I had, maybe Kanan would have waited longer and we could have met up earlier… But I wasn’t. I wasn’t there for Hera, when she needed us all.”

Ahsoka reached over Ezra to grab Sabine’s hand. “It’s gonna be okay,” she said, and some part of Ezra knew that it was wrong that the youngest of them should be the one comforting them, but the rest of him was just grateful for the reassurance.

“Yeah, Kanan and Ashla will figure out where we are, and we’ll be out of here soon.” Ezra said with as much confidence as he could muster.

“What, not Anakin and Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka said almost playfully, and Ezra snorted.

“They’re good, but they’re not that good. Ashla has been studying Sidious for months and Kanan’s been here before—well, he’s been in this system before. They’ll find us.”

Sabine frowned. “This system? You know where we are?”

Ezra nodded. “Yeah, the heat and volcanic ash all over the place made me guess, but Dooku just confirmed it.”

Sabine paled, and Ahsoka looked back and forth between the two of them. “What is it? Where are we?”

“Mustafar,” Ezra answered, “where Jedi go to die.”


	8. Identical Words Against Different Time Frames

Obi-Wan was frustrated. That much would have been obvious just looking at him, but the fact that he was also trying to hide the way his hands were shaking and the way his heart crept into his throat every time he looked at his chrono was much less obvious. It had been three days, and the Council still was refusing to hunt Sidious down. Three days Ezra, Ahsoka, and Sabine were in his clutches, and in Obi-Wan’s opinion, that was three days too many.

Yoda, the de facto leader of the Council now that Mace was dead, shook his head again. “Focus, we must, on the war effort. Needed, we all are. End, this conflict will not, with Palpatine’s death.”

“Surely we can spare a few Jedi to hunt him down. Without his manipulating both sides, the war will be over in half the time,” Obi-Wan protested. He was in the middle of the room, staring out at the rest of the surviving Council members.

Ki-Adi Mundi shook his head. “But he is no longer manipulating both sides. The Order and the Senate both know now that he was working with the enemy, and thus we can avoid his manipulations.”

Kit Fisto scowled. “Except that the Senate will continue to use his strategies, because they don’t understand the war and because they don’t understand how deep Sidious’s treason runs.”

“That won’t end at his death, it has to be cut off here and now. Which is why we must stay here and handle the mess he left behind.” Shaak Ti seemed conflicted, at least, as though she didn’t like the idea of leaving the three children (regardless of the fact that two of them were in their twenties) in the clutches of the Sith. That didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t voting for anything to be done to help them.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. “That sounds dangerously like politics. We must not meddle in the affairs of the Senate, or else they’ll take that as an excuse to meddle with us.”

Murmurs of agreement sounded in the room, but no one seemed to have anything to add to Obi-Wan’s point. Looking around the room, he was disheartened to see that no one was going to agree with him, although Masters Koon, Fisto, and Ti at least had the decency to look conflicted.

So with a sigh, Obi-Wan slumped slightly and moved to his seat, conceding defeat. The rest of the Council carried on around him and he occasionally hummed his agreement when one of them made a point he agreed with, but his mind was a million parsecs away, running through scenarios and trying to come up with a way he could justify his upcoming insubordination. Eventually he came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be able to justify it in a way that wasn’t just, ‘I decided to do the right thing and screw the consequences.’ Which meant he would most likely be punished. Oh, well, at least he could order the ones who he knew would volunteer to come along so they wouldn’t be able to be punished.

_______

“Why can’t we calling Hera?” Zeb demanded for the fifth time, and Kanan gritted his teeth. The two of them, Ashla, and Anakin had gathered in the Kenobi-Skywalker-Tano apartments in the Temple, and Zeb had been trying to convince him to comm Hera for the last twenty minutes while they waited for Obi-Wan to get back from the Council meeting.

“Because,” Kanan said with exaggerated patience, “I don’t want Hera getting dragged into a battle against a Sith Lord. It’s bad enough that Sabine and Ezra are going to be there, I can’t have her there as well.”

Zeb spluttered. “I’m going, and you’re not concerned about me?”

“You’re not going, so I don’t need to be concerned about you,” Kanan shot back, and Zeb’s ears shot upright in outrage.

“I’m not—?”

Ashla cut him off. She looked perfectly at ease, at least at first glance, but Kanan could see the darker bags under her eyes and the stress lines she was trying to hide by keeping a forcibly calm expression. “There won’t be any civilians for you to evacuate, and we’ll be taking two of the best squads in the GAR with us to take care of any back-up Sidious may have. That, on top of however many Jedi we can convince to come with us, should be enough that you can stay behind. We won’t need you.”

At Zeb’s expression, Kanan quickly added, “We don’t want to be worrying about you, too. We’re going up against the Sith Lord, remember? And I’d bet anything Dooku’s going to be there as well. That’s two of the most powerful duelists in the galaxy who can throw lightning from their fingertips and wield ‘sabers in such a deadly manner that they can cut down Jedi with ease , and you have a bo-rifle.”

“I’ve gone up against Red Blades before!” Zeb protested, “And I’m not leaving the kits on their own!”

“You had a ship the first time, and got knocked out the second,” Ashla reminded him, and Kanan nodded.

“Besides, I need you here with Jacen and Chopper. Don’t,” he stressed, “tell Chopper what’s going on, or else he’ll hijack a Venator and come after us.”

Zeb gawked at him for a second before saying in a choked voice, “Kanan… he doesn’t even know you’re alive.”

Kanan grimaced. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep the droid in the dark, or that he didn’t want to see his seven-month-old son, it was just that he had to prioritize getting Ezra and Sabine back over any other reunion right now. That was part, though not a huge part, of why he didn’t want to comm Hera yet.

The other part was guilt. Guilt for losing Ezra and Sabine, guilt for not waiting longer on Lothal so they could have met up sooner, but mostly, guilt for what he put her through by dying. It wasn’t what he wanted, but he’d still gone and sacrificed himself. He hadn't been there for her, through the pregnancy up to the birth, and beyond. He’d missed his son’s first several months of life, and left Hera thinking she’d be facing the rest of Jacen’s life without him.

And the guilt of that was eating him alive.

So, one thing at a time. He could handle getting Ezra and Sabine back, and hopefully that would make meeting Hera easier.

“I know,” he said at last, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know none of them do, but right now we need to focus on getting the kids back, then we can tackle getting everyone else up to speed. But I need you to stay here. Get Jacen and Chopper to the Temple, they’ll be safe here.”

For the first time, Anakin, who obviously had no idea who half the people they were talking about were, spoke up. “You can keep them here, in our apartments. It’s not huge, but it’s safe, and Chopper’s a droid right? He should be able to navigate easily around here. Not to mention it should be child-proof.”

Kanan almost raised an eyebrow at that, but remembered that Senator Amidala was probably heavily pregnant by now, so of course Anakin had baby-proofed his main living quarters—aside from the senator’s apartment, of course. The image of a baby Ezra waddling around the room they were standing in now made Kanan smile, but he passed it off by asking, “Is it seven-month-old proof?”

“So long as the kid stays out of my room, it should be.”

Ashla snorted. “If your quarters here are anything like your workspace on the  _ Resolute,  _ I can imagine that wouldn’t be safe for anyone not wearing boots.”

Frowning, Anakin turned to look at her even as the door slid open and Obi-Wan stepped in. “How would you know what my workspace looks like?” Anakin asked, and his former Master sighed as he made his way past the four of them.

“She spent over a week on board the  _ Resolute, _ Anakin, I don’t doubt she saw your workspace at some point or another.” Obi-Wan sounded resigned as he sat down, and Kanan guessed what he was going to say before he even said it. “The Council will not help us.”

Several renditions of “What? Why?” echoed through the room as the group quickly surrounded Obi-Wan. Kanan sat across from him on one of the two stools in the small living area, Anakin claiming the other, leaving Ashla to grab some seat next to Obi-Wan, while Zeb stood behind the two men, his arms crossed and a scowl firmly on his face. Kanan offered him a sympathetic smile before turning back to Obi-Wan, wanting to know exactly what reasons the Council had given for not helping them.

Sighing, Obi-Wan folded his arms. “The Council has decided to embroil itself in politics to clean up Sidious’s mess rather than keep him from making a bigger one. Or rescue our friends.”

“But that’s ridiculous!” Anakin exclaimed. “They’re members of the Jedi Order, our first priority should be to rescue them! How could the Council just abandon them like this?”

Kanan sighed. “They’re not all members of the Order. Only Ahsoka is.”

“And the Council isn’t abandoning them,” Ashla put in, “I guarantee they know we’re going to go after them.”

“We’re going to need more back-up,” Zeb grumbled, and Kanan looked back at him, glaring ever so slightly.

“Yes,  _ we  _ will. You will definitely be staying behind.”

“Kanan, come on! You’re going in without the Jedi to back you up, and you want to leave one of your best warriors behind?”

Kanan stood, crossing his arms as he looked Zeb square in the eye. “You’re good, Zeb—against droids or soldiers. But not Sith. You’d just get yourself killed, and I’m not risking anyone I don’t have to, especially when it won’t tip the balance all that much.”

Zeb growled, and if Kanan didn’t know that was the same noise he made when Ezra stole his waffles, he might have found that intimidating. “I’m coming with you! Kanan, I just found out you were alive again! And last time… last time you went on a rescue mission, you didn’t come back! And guess who had to deal with the fallout from that, huh?  _ Me. _ I was there for Hera throughout the pregnancy, because you weren’t! I’m not risking having to tell Hera that I lost you again, not when I can do something about it!”

Zeb was panting by the time he finished yelling, and Kanan felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Zeb…”

“Forget it,” Zeb grumbled, sounding defeated. “I’m going to go get the kit.” With that, he grabbed his bo-rifle and left.

Kanan stared after him, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. He hadn’t even thought about how hard this had to be for Zeb, how unfair it was that he be charging off into danger while Zeb stayed behind again. But if it meant one less person he cared about was in the danger zone… Zeb would have to live with it.

Anakin gave an awkward cough, and Kanan turned around, grimacing at the rest of the group, who all wore sympathetic expressions. Anakin in particular looked like he wanted to say something about what had just happened, but he must have changed his mind because the next thing he asked was, “So who all do you think we can get to come with us?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Well, Ezra’s squad will be coming whether we like it or not, now that they’re all back on their feet.”

“I know someone who’ll want to help,” Ashla put in, and Kanan shot her a confused look, to which she said, “Her name is Barriss Offee, and I might have convinced her to do what she thought was right, not what the Council ordered.”

Nodding, Kanan tried not to smile. Now that he thought about it, he vaguely recalled Knight Offee confessing to the bombing that had gotten Ahsoka kicked out of the Order. Ashla must have gotten to her first, and gotten through to her that that wasn’t the best way to get the Order to change.

Anakin and Obi-Wan, on the other hand, looked mildly outraged. “Barriss has been MIA for two months, because of  _ you?” _ Anakin demanded. “Ahsoka has been worried sick.”

“She was hardly in more danger than she would have been if she’d continued fighting the war,” Ashla replied as she pulled out her datapad and started typing out a message. “And besides, she’s been AWOL, not MIA.”

“Hardly the most important point at the moment,” Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard. “What has she been doing?”

Ashla shrugged, putting her ‘pad away. “Same thing as me. Being a Jedi and a healer, not just a soldier.”

Anakin made a noise in protest, but Obi-Wan looked contemplative. “A warrior, a soldier, a healer and a diplomat,” he muttered under his breath, and Kanan shot him a funny look.

“What was that, Master?” Anakin asked.

“Oh, just something I heard a Force-being say once. Jedi are not just soldiers and warriors, but also healers and diplomats. We are meant to heal hurts, not just inflict them, which is what we’ve been doing throughout the war.”

With a grimace, Anakin asked, “Mortis?”

“Actually, no,” Obi-Wan answered, standing, “A lovely little planet called Atollon.”

“Atollon—wait, what were you doing there?” Kanan asked incredulously.

“Our ship crash-landed there,” Obi-Wan answered blithely, and out of the corner of his eye, Kanan caught Ashla giving Anakin a look that said, ‘really?’ “Oh, no, Ashla, he wasn’t even on board. Otherwise he’d know who and what I was talking about.”

Realization dawned on Kanan embarrassingly late. “Wait, you talked to the Bendu?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly. I overheard him and Ezra discussing something. I’d love to know what the rest of the conversation was like, but in order to do that, we need Ezra. And preferably Ahsoka and Sabine, as well.”

With that grim reminder, Ashla and Anakin stood as well. “I’ll comm Rex, tell him to get a squad ready,” Anakin offered, and Obi-Wan nodded.

“We’ll take those two squads, Barriss, and the four of us. I can only hope that will be enough.”

“Slight problem,” Ashla pointed out, “We don’t know where Palpatine took them.”

Anakin sighed. “We’ve tried narrowing it down, but there aren’t many planets he can’t be on and so many that he could be. It’s nearly impossible.”

Obi-Wan just shook his head. “I need Ezra’s datapad. I don’t think he had it on him when he was captured?”

“He didn’t,” Kanan answered, not sure where Obi-Wan was going with this. “So it’ll be in his quarters. Why?”

“Well, I’m assuming Ahsoka never had the opportunity to remove all of her trackers.”

Anakin grinned like a maniac then. “Oh, that’s brilliant. I’d forgotten about those. You sure they’ll still work?”

“They worked less than a week ago,” Obi-Wan answered, a certainness in his expression that soothed some of Kanan’s lingering fears. “Ezra used them to track me down when I went to face Maul.”

“Brilliant,” Ashla murmured. “That’ll work perfectly. Right now we have no other way of knowing where Sidious had them, so this just might be what we need to get the upper hand. He won’t be expecting us to find him so soon.”

Kanan nodded, wondering absentmindedly where he would keep the kids if this was the Rebellion era, and not the Clone Wars. With a sudden chill, he realized it was entirely plausible that Sidious was keeping them in exactly the same place. “Ashla,” he said, aware of just how grave his voice was, “What are the chances that he still has some of the same bases?”

“Pretty high. Why?” Ashla asked, then clenched her jaw. “Oh, sweet Force, no.”

Kanan nodded, stroking his beard. “It’d make sense. Heavy Dark Side presence, Outer Rim where no one would find it, population that keeps to themselves...”

"And he's built there before," Ashla added. "You're right, that'd be perfect for a secret base."

“Not so secret if you two know about it,” Obi-Wan said, then asked, “Where?”

Pursing her lips, Ashla crossed her arms. “I’m not completely sure, we’ll need to check the trackers first, but there’s a high chance….”

“It’s called Mustafar,” Kanan finished for her. “We know it as the place Jedi go to die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is the shortest chapter in LBBF, but it's important, so...  
> Next chapter, the action picks up!


	9. Or Were We Broken Right From the Start?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is so late in the day, I legitimately forgot today was Wednesday.

On the third day of their imprisonment, Ahsoka was about ready to kill for a drink of water. The heat was making her feel nauseous and feverish. Sabine and Ezra looked about how she felt, so she knew it wasn’t just her.

“They’ve got to feed us sometime,” Ahsoka panted. “We’re no good to them dead.”

Sabine nodded. “They just want us weakened. They won’t let us die.”

“Cheery,” Ezra muttered, shifting his weight. He had been sitting with his legs under him, but was now leaning off to the side, looking flushed.

Ahsoka snorted before dragging herself over to where Ezra was sitting and resting her head on his leg. She was exhausted, even though all she’d been able to do was sleep. But with dehydration and heatstroke, came otherwise inexplicable tiredness, and she was beginning to wish she would just die already so she could be out of this infernal place. Or Anakin and Obi-Wan could come rescue them. That’d be ideal.

“You know, sharing body heat probably isn’t the best idea right now,” Ezra said, looking down at her.

She shrugged as best she could while lying down. “I don’t care. It’s not gonna make that much of a difference anyway.”

A few feet away, Sabine snorted in agreement, sliding over and letting Ezra rest his head on her shoulder. She’d shed a good deal of her clothing, leaving her in black leggings and a tan top. Ezra had done much the same, stripping down to his blacks. Ahsoka had tugged off her boots and gloves, but otherwise, she couldn't take anything off without being uncomfortably revealing. Togrutas ran hotter than humans ordinarily, so if the other two thought they were hot right now, she was boiling.

“Right now, we just need the comfort,” Sabine said, and yeah, that was the main reason Ahsoka had decided to use Ezra’s leg as a pillow, but she wasn’t going to say that.That would’ve made things awkward.

Except they weren’t. Ezra just accepted that explanation without comment. It dawned on her that the reason it felt awkward for her was because she wasn’t used to this kind of thing. Much like the physical affection, she wasn’t used to it because people at the Temple rarely used it. It was just kind of understood that everyone cared about everyone else, it was rarely spelled out.

She snuggled slightly closer to the two humans, relaxing more when Ezra rested a hand on her shoulder—his organic one, thankfully, as the metal one had to be scalding by now—and when Sabine followed suit, resting a hand on her hip because she couldn’t reach her shoulder.

“You’re like a Loth-cat, you know that?” Ezra said, but before she could come up with a clever retort, she heard metallic footsteps coming down the hall outside their cell and immediately sat bolt upright.

The other two did the same, shifting into crouched ready positions with the same eery synchronization that Anakin and Obi-Wan had—the synchronization of two people who’d fought beside each other so often they knew each other’s moves better than their own. She managed to get herself ready to lunge at the door, too, but her muscles were aching and she knew she wouldn’t be able to win in a fight.

A couple of B2s stopped outside the door, parting to let Dooku and a pair of MagnaGuards through. Dooku didn’t quite sneer at them, but the disdain on his face made it clear that if he were less of a pompous dirtbag he would have. Palming the door open, he let the MagnaGuards enter the cell ahead of him.

“I apologize for our lack of hospitality,” Dooku said, “But we weren’t prepared for your arrival.”

Behind her, Ezra replied, “That’s fine, we didn’t mean to bother you anyway. Maybe we could just leave.”

Immediately the MagnaGuards lowered their staffs, making Ahsoka jump back a half-step toward the siblings. Dooku remained unphased. “Oh, no, I’m afraid we have quite the reception prepared for you now. We wouldn’t want to waste the preparations.”

Ahsoka shifted into another fighting stance. “Sorry, but I think we’re going to have to refuse your hospitality.”

With that, she lunged forward, grabbing one of the MagnaGuards’ electrostaffs and trying to twist it out of its arms. At the same time, Ezra and Sabine sprang on the other one, Sabine going for the weapon while Ezra jumped up, wrapping his legs around the guard’s neck and twisting just as Sabine rammed into it. The droid fell over Sabine’s back, and she came away with the staff.

Ignoring them for the time being, Ahsoka kicked off the droid, twisting in midair to rip the staff out of her droid’s hands. As the droid Ezra and Sabine had taken down got to its feet again, Ahsoka realized that Dooku had stepped out of the cell and had activated the forcefield again. He gave her one sinister smile and did something with the door controls, making a blast door slide into place over their cell. The MagnaGuards stood down, and Ahsoka had time to exchange a fearful look with the other two before smoke hissed into the room from the small vent

Immediately, Ahsoka covered her mouth with her elbow, knowing it would be useless. Ezra had the hem of his blacks tugged up over the lower half of his face, and behind him Sabine was doing the same. But it was useless. Ahsoka coughed as the smoke entered her lungs, fogging up her vision at the first inhale. At the second, she lost feeling in her limbs and dropped to the ground. Vaguely she saw Ezra and Sabine collapse as well, but then she inhaled again and her vision went black.

________

Rex looked up as his general entered, followed by Ashla and a man Rex vaguely recognized from the aftermath of the battle at the Senate Building. Immediately, he stood, saluting. “General Skywalker,” He dropped the salute and offered a hand to Ashla. “Ashla, good to see you.”

Ashla smiled and shook his hand. “Good to see you too, Rex.” The man next to her started slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that name, and Rex narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh, Rex, this is Kanan Jarrus. Kanan, Captain Rex of the 501st.”

This time, it was Rex who started. “Jarrus, huh?”

Giving a pained smile, Kanan offered his hand. “Yeah, and before you ask, yes, I’m his father.”

General Skywalker was looking back and forth between Rex and Ashla, clearly confused. “Wait a minute, how do you two know each other?”

“Remember when Obi-Wan said about my being on the  _ Resolute  _ for over a week? That was right after Kadavo,” Ashla explained, sending Kanan an  _ I’ll explain later  _ look when he raised an eyebrow. “I was the one who broke them out, hence how Rex knows me.”

General Skywalker seemed to accept that explanation, then turned to Rex. “We need a squad of volunteers to take with us to Mustafar.”

Rex was pretty sure he’d heard that name before, but couldn’t place it. It was probably safe to assume that was where Palpatine was holding Ahsoka, Ezra and the other girl—who, now that he thought about it, was probably Ezra’s sister. “Only a squad, sir? Shouldn’t we be all going? This is the Sith Lord we’re talking about, he took out over twenty men on his way out of the Senate Building, and let’s not forget, he killed Generals Windu, Tiin, and Kolar. I don’t think one squad is going to cut it.”

“We’re taking Ezra’s squad, too,” General Skywalker said, like that was supposed to reassure him. Ezra’s squad was good, no doubt about that, but they weren’t take-down-a-Sith-Lord good. “And we’ll have Obi-Wan, Ashla, Kanan, and Barriss with us, while Sidious won’t be able to pull most of his army away without giving away his position. His forces will be limited. We’ll be on pretty even footing, especially once we get Sabine, Ahsoka, and Ezra free and get weapons in their hands.”

Ah, so Sabine was her name. Tucking that information away in the back of his mind, Rex sighed. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to bring along at least three more squads.”

Ashla shook her head. “No, Anakin’s right, the more reinforcements we bring, the more he’ll call in and the harder it’ll be to get out alive.”

“Our goal isn’t just to get out alive,” General Skywalker insisted. “It’s to take care of the threat of Sidious once and for all.”

Rex leveled him a flat look. “And we’re doing that with two squads and less than half a dozen Jedi, plus the prisoners, assuming they’re in any condition to fight.”

Kanan grimaced, adding his thoughts for the first time. “It does sound bad when you put it like that, but… this feels right, Rex. It’ll work.”

Sighing, Rex gestured his surrender. “All right, I’ll just assume this is a Force thing and trust your judgement.” Turning, he called, “Fives, Kix, Echo, Jesse, and Hardcase, get your gear together and prep for a mission!”

“Sir, yes sir!” Came the response, echoed five times over, and Rex turned to the Jedi.

“I really hope you’re right about this.”

General Skywalker sighed, and muttered, “Yeah, so do I.”

________

Ahsoka woke up slowly. Her head throbbed mercilessly as she propped herself up, and she groaned, reaching a hand up to massage it. judging from the heat and the metal beneath her, she was still in the cell. She heard another groan, opened her eyes, and looked around.

Ezra was behind her, sitting up as well, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He looked over at her and sent her a reassuring smile, but then the blood drained out of his face. “Sabine.” He threw himself to his feet, racing over to the forcefield. “Sabine!” he shouted, “Sabine!” Swearing, he whirled around, nearly stepping on the tray that had been left at the foot of the steps into the cell.

Ahsoka crawled over to it. There were three ration bars, and three bottles of luke-warm water, but that was better than they’d had before. Of course, before they’d at least had their sister/friend.

Ezra grimaced and dropped to the ground across from her. “Why’d they take her?” His voice was hoarse, and Ahsoka handed him one of the bottles.

“I don’t know,” she lied, even though she knew exactly why. He met her eyes and she knew he knew the answer to his question. “Hey,” she said as he turned away, glaring, “they gave us three bottles, three ration bars—they’re planning on bringing her back.”

“I hope so,” Ezra muttered, taking one of the bars but not opening it. “I can’t lose her.”

Ahsoka shuffled over to sit beside him, their shoulders and legs brushing. “We’re not going to lose each other. You said Kanan and Ashla would find us; they will, and they’ll bring enough help to get us all out of here.”

Ezra nodded, still looking uncertain. After a moment, he asked softly, “But will we all be alive by then?”

The hours passed slowly after that. They didn’t bother talking, knowing there was nothing they could talk about that safely or that they hadn’t already covered in the last three days. Idly, Ahsoka wondered how long they’d been out, and how Sabine was holding up, but quickly decided thinking about that wasn’t a good idea.

At least four hours later, the blast door hissed open again, but Sabine wasn't there. Instead, it was a group of MagnaGuards with a couple of B2s, who gestured her and Ezra away from each other. Reluctantly, she obeyed, Ezra doing the same opposite her, but she kept a wary eye on the droids as they entered, holding two pairs of cuffs.

As soon as she was cuffed, Ahsoka noticed one last droid following the others into the cell—a medical droid. It was mumbling to itself as it rolled toward Ezra, who started thrashing as it got closer. Ahsoka got a better look and realized why: the droid had a needle it was extending toward Ezra’s arm—his organic one, otherwise she wouldn’t have been half as worried.

The droid injected Ezra with whatever was in the hypospray, and he grimaced, but otherwise there was no reaction. He shot a curious glance at Ahsoka, who let the droid inject her with another hypospray, but she didn’t have a clue what they were giving her either. The only noticeable effect was that her blood ran cold at the site of the injection.

“Supressant administered,” the med droid droned, and the B2s ushered her and Ezra out of the room.

She shot him a look, mouthing, ‘suppressant?’ and he shrugged minutely. The moment they stepped out of the cell, though, they got their answer. For a split second, the Force caming rushing back, and Ahsoka prepared herself to throw the droids away from her, but then the cold from the injection flared, settling in her bones. Try as she might, she couldn’t reach the Force. It slipped out of her grasp like sand through her fingers.

Force suppressant. The cell must have had one built-in, and now that they were leaving it, they needed to be given a more temporary one to keep them from breaking loose. Ahsoka shot Ezra a grimace, his expression matching hers, before they were marched down the hallway.

A few hallways down, they ended up in a room only a bit larger than the cell they’d been in, with taller ceilings and a window high up on one wall. Ahsoka could see Sidious through it, his hood drawn over his head but not covering his face. Of course, he didn’t need to hide his identity anymore. Ashla had told them before they’d left to arrest Palpatine that she’d handed the evidence over to the press as well, so the news had probably reached the populace about the time Sidious got away. The whole galaxy knew who he was now.

To her left, though, was the one person she wanted to see. Sabine was hanging in a containment field, her hands above her head and her legs pinned together. She was trembling, sweat clinging to her brow, but she was conscious, her eyes widening as Ahsoka and Ezra entered the room.

“Sabine!” Ezra called out from behind Ahsoka, and the Mandalorian jerked in her restraints.

“Kriff, no, let them go!” Sabine continued swearing in the direction of another door, and Ahsoka craned her neck to see Dooku standing in the shadows, watching with a smug expression as the MagnaGuards forced her and Ezra into their own containment fields.

The three containment fields were spaced evenly along the perimeter of the room, giving only Ahsoka a view up into the observation deck, where Palpatine was watching them with glowing eyes and a creepy smile.

Dooku strode forward, focusing on Sabine. “Now we know your weakness. And if you do not break, perhaps they will.” He reached forward, his fingers splayed, and Sabine drew away as best she could.

“Don’t look—Ezra, Ahsoka, don’t look, don’t look!” She shouted as electricity crackled between Dooku’s fingers, but right as the lightning built up to the critical point, he pivoted on his heel and threw the lightning at Ezra.

_ “No!”  _ Sabine shouted, trying to throw herself at Dooku, but it was pointless she was held firmly in place as Ezra writhed and screamed.

Ahsoka could feel the blood draining from her face. _ “Ezra! _ No, nonono, Ezra, hold on, just hold on!”

Her cries fell on deaf ears as Ezra gave one last strangled scream and fell silent, his body still twitching as Dooku poured electricity into him.

________

Half a galaxy away from Mustafar, Kanan felt his heart stop. The floor of the cargo hold spun underneath him as his knees buckled, and he fell to his hands and knees with a gasp. Bracing a hand against his chest, he frowned in confusion as he felt his heart still beating under his palm. He was certain he’d felt it stop—and he was intimately aware of what that felt like—so how was it still beating?

An echo, he realized, he’d felt an echo through the Force of someone else—

”Ezra,” he gasped, struggling to breathe.

Ashla was suddenly next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Kanan, what’s wrong?”

Glancing over at her, he realized she could feel it too, just not as intimately as he did, and she didn’t know what it meant. “E-Ezra. It’s Ezra, he’s dying—we need to go, now.”

Ashla nodded and helped him to his feet. “Okay.” Turning to the cockpit of the ship the ship Anakin had called the  _ Twilight, _ their ride to Mustafar, she called, “Obi-Wan, Anakin! We need to leave, right now!”

“What? But Barriss isn’t here yet, we were going to wait for her—” Anakin protested as he popped his head out of the cockpit, only to stop and pale when he saw Kanan’s face. Kanan wasn't sure exactly what he looked like, but if the dread and terror he was feeling was reflected on his face, it had to be bad. “Yeah, okay, we’re leaving. She can meet us there. Rex!”

As Anakin raced out into the hanger of the  _ Resolute, _ Ashla helped Kanan to his feet, guiding him into the cockpit to sit down. Obi-Wan looked up from the co-pilot’s seat as he slumped into one of the stations around the cockpit, still bracing his hand against his chest and willing Ezra’s heart to start beating again.

A few agonizing moments later, a weight suddenly lifted off his chest and, through the ringing in his ears, he could hear another heartbeat. Nearly collapsing with relief, Kanan took a deep breath, finally feeling like the oxygen was actually getting into his lungs now. Obi-Wan was looking at him in concern, clearly waiting for an update, while Ashla was closing her eyes, mouthing something—a prayer, maybe—as she braced herself against the wall next to Kanan.

“He’s back,” Kanan whispered, and Obi-Wan’s shoulders slumped in relief. “What are they doing to him?”

Obi-Wan sighed, turning his chair back toward the console in front of him. “If they’re using any type of elcectrical torture…”

Ashla sucked in a breath sharply. “Oh, Force, I’d forgotten—”

“Forgotten what?” Kanan demanded, clutching the arms of the seat he was in.

Ashla and Obi-Wan exchanged a look, but before they could silently agree who was going to tell him, Anakin rushed back in, Rex on his heels.

“We’re good to go, everyone strap in!” Anakin called, and a chorus of, “yes, sir!” rang from the cargo hold. Anakin threw himself into the pilot’s seat, ignoring his own order as he quickly took off and zipped out into open space. His droid, an Artoo unit that looked a hell of a lot like the one Bail Organa had owned, beeped something Kanan didn’t bother translating and Anakin threw the ship into hyperspace.

Anakin heaved a sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair, then turned around, facing Kanan. “What happened?”

“Ezra—his heart, it just stopped for a minute. He’s back now, but I don’t know why—”

“Zygerria,” Ashla cut in, and Kanan stopped to give her an incredulous look.

“What have those slavers got to do with anything?” He asked, then remembered what Ahsoka and Ezra had said about ending up captured by slavers, and he felt the blood drain from his face. “He was captured by them?”

Obi-Wan and Rex nodded grimly, the latter explaining, “He was electrocuted a lot, it threw off his heart and now it’s damaged. Kix could explain it better, but basically he’s at risk if he’s ever injured again.”

“And with Dooku’s fondness for electricity…” Anakin added grimly.

Kanan pursed his lips, suddenly glad Zeb wasn’t here. If he’d heard that, he would have turned the ship around and headed straight to Zygerria to give those slavers a piece of his mind. As much as Kanan would have agreed with the sentiment, he had to focus on what was important: Ezra was in danger, and they had to get him back.

________

The med droid shocked Ezra again, and this time he jerked, coughing and shaking. He was still out, Ahsoka could tell, but he was breathing, and that was all she cared about in that moment.This was the third time she’d watched him flatline today, and she was getting sick and tired of it, not to mention she was terrified of what this could do to Ezra. Not only the repeated shocks, but the time without oxygen to his brain.

Sabine looked sick, like she was going to hurl at Dooku’s feet. The Sith was prowling around Ezra, like he found the subject of his torture amusing. He had thrown an impossible amount of lightning his way, causing Ezra to writhe in pain and eventually flatline, all while Sabine and Ahsoka pleaded for him to stop.

For a moment, it looked like he would, but then he drawled, “Interesting,” and turned to one of the MagnaGuards, gesturing in Ezra’s direction. She hoped for a moment that it was going to let him down from the containment field, but instead, it jabbed him with its electrostaff into Ezra’s stomach. He lurched away from it, a gasped scream escaping his mouth, but otherwise he didn’t react.

Ahsoka and Sabine did, though, Ahsoka screaming, “No, leave him alone, leave him alone! Don’t hurt him, please!” Sabine’s cries echoed her own, only to cut off with a gasp as Dooku reached forward, holding his hand inches away from her forehead.  _ Mind probe, _ Ahsoka realized, and began flailing around as best she could, screaming, “Stop! Stop, just stop, please! Don’t hurt them!”

Dooku ignored her. “Tell me what I wish to know. Tell me how you knew about our plans.”

Sabine was turning red, choking slightly as she fought against the intrusion into her mind, but she managed to say, “Screw. You.” A small part of Ahsoka was proud of her for that, but the majority was just horrified as Dooku pushed harder, making Sabine’s screams echo up to mingle with Ezra’s.

Above them, Ahsoka glimpsed Palpatine leaning closer, intrigued, but Ahsoka was too distracted to care what had caught his attention. Ezra had stopped screaming again, and the moment that realization hit Ahsoka, Sabine gave one last scream before slumping slightly in her bonds.

Dooku pulled back, looking up at Palpatine. “He has a brother.”

“Who?” Palpatine’s voice was coming from a speaker built into the walls, giving his voice a mechanical edge.

Dooku sneered, “Skywalker,” and Ahsoka’s blood ran cold.

Across the room, the med droid was administering another shot of adrenaline to Ezra, and he gasped shakily, his eyes fluttering open as he shook in his bonds. Dooku turned his attention to Ezra, and Ahsoka took the opportunity to give Sabine a once-over and silently ask a question. Sabine just shook her head, and Ahsoka hoped that meant what she thought it did. If Dooku had found out about the time travel, Palpatine would have fixated on that as a solution to his current predicament.

Ezra was panting as he stared warily at Dooku, beads of sweat visible on his forehead even from across the room. “What, you gonna kill me again if I don’t tell you what you wanna know?” He gasped, his voice hoarse and weak. Ahsoka clenched her jaw at the sound of it, because if Ezra felt as bad as he looked and sounded, that was not good news.

“Your friend already has,” Dooku said.

Ezra immediately paled, glancing over at Sabine, who just whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“My Lord Sidious, may I present to you Ezra Skywalker, the second Skywalker,” Dooku said triumphantly, and Ahsoka grimaced. He wasn't wrong, but he wasn’t quite right either. Still, thinking Ezra was Anakin’s brother was better than knowing he was his son.

Even from this distance, Ahsoka could see the gleam in Sidious’s eyes. Great, just great. If he found out that Ezra was potentially as powerful as Anakin—or even close to that level—he would think he had found his new apprentice, and Ahsoka and Sabine could say goodbye to a pain-free existence. They’d be his instruments in breaking Ezra.

“Excellent, Darth Tyrannus. I will be taking over his interrogation for now. Send the others back to their cell,” Sidious ordered, and Dooku bowed, then gestured a couple of the MagnaGuards forward to deactivate her and Sabine’s containment fields. Ahsoka managed to land on her feet as the field dropped her, but Sabine wasn’t as lucky. She fell onto her knees, and would have tipped forward to land on her face if one of the MagnaGuards hadn’t grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Sabine!” Ezra called as she was hauled to her feet, and Ahsoka could hear the fear in his voice and see it on his face. He was scared.

Sabine struggled against the MagnaGuard as it cuffed her hands behind her back and marched her out of the room. “It’s gonna be okay, Ezra, it’s gonna be okay, just hold on, hold on—!” Her cries were cut off by the door slamming shut with a sense of finality.

They marched back toward the cell in silence, but something was changing. Ahsoka could feel the Force slowly slipping back into her grasp, and she had to wonder if they’d adjusted her dose to compensate for Togrutan biology. They were almost at the cell when she could fully feel it again, and, with a glance over her shoulder at Sabine, she used the Force to bust open her cuffs and throw the four MagnaGuards away from her.

Quickly, Sabine turned around so Ahsoka could reach her cuffs. In a second, they were off, clattering to the floor as the two girls fell into battle stances. The MagnaGuards were regaining their feet, and somehow, despite being expressionless machines, they looked ticked. Before the last guard was properly on its feet, she attacked.

Lunging forward, she swept its legs out from under it. As it fell, she grabbed its electrostaff out of its hands and swung it down into the droid’s head, killing it as it gave a mechanical whine. A second MagnaGuard charged forward, twirling its staff, and she met it blow for blow, ducking and weaving between strikes as best she could.

She was tired and sore, and her muscles were killing her as they were exercised without being stretched first, but the surge of adrenaline was working in tandem with the rush of the Force coming back to her, and her focus was sharp.

Behind her, she could hear Sabine sparring with the other two guards, and she hoped she could hold on long enough for Ahsoka to help her.

A lucky shot inside the guard of the droid she was facing made it stumble back, and she leapt into the air, slashing at the droid’s head. She caught it in the side of the head, and it stumbled sideways into the wall, where she shoved it again with the Force before stabbing it in the chest. The electricity ran through it for a couple seconds before she yanked the staff out, and the droid fell to the ground.

Turning, she wasn’t terribly surprised to see Sabine dodging between the staffs of the remaining two guards, but she was getting dangerously slow, her reactions just a hair shy of getting her killed.

“Sabine!” Ahsoka called, and tossed her the second guard’s staff. She caught it, turning in time to block an overhead swing. Ahsoka dashed forward, jabbing her staff low. The droid blocked it, but Sabine took the opening and landed a blow in the droid’s shoulder, making it stumble back.

As one, the two girls turned on the last droid, Ahsoka jumping off of Sabine’s back onto the droid’s shoulders. It lifted its staff to knock her off, but Ahsoka trapped it there, raised above its head uselessly. Sabine stabbed the droid in its chest, and Ahsoka leapt off of it, having no desire to be electrocuted.

As the droid fell, they turned on the remaining one, which twirled its staff before leaping into the fray. Sabine fell back, clearly struggling just to hold onto the staff she had, and Ahsoka let her. She’d been tortured for hours before they had been taken to the room she’d been held in, and then Dooku had forced his way into her mind. She was due a respite.

Ducking under the droid’s swings, Ahsoka lashed out at the droid’s legs, only to be blocked. Undeterred, she stepped inside the droid’s guard and yanked it forward with the Force, impaling it on the staff. She let both staff and droid fall to the ground as she hurried over to where Sabine had sunk to the ground.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Sabine tried to reassure her, but Ahsoka could feel the pain rolling off of her.

Shaking her head, she pulled Sabine’s arm over her shoulder and pulled her to her feet. “No, you’re not. C’mon, we need to find a place to hide.”

“Hide? No, we need to go get Ezra—” Sabine started to pull away, but Ahsoka clung on stubbornly.

“Right now, you’re struggling not to keel over, and I’m exhausted. He’s being guarded by Darth Sidious himself, and you think we have a chance? No, we need to hide until we can get to him, or until help gets here.”

With that, Ahsoka pulled her down the hall, away from where they’d left Ezra. Every step she took away from him hurt, but it was for the best. They were no good to him dead.

After a few minutes of struggling along, they reached an intersection. Ahsoka grimaced as she looked down the identical hallways, all of them stretching out a long ways before branching off again. She cursed as she adjusted her hold on Sabine, who shakily lifted a hand and pointed at a hallway at random.

“Loth-rat, Loth-cat, Loth-wolf, run,” she panted, pointing at a new hallway every syllable, “pick a path and all is—”

An alarm rang through the facility, and Ahsoka muttered a curse that would have made Rex blush. Hurrying down the last hallway Sabine had pointed at, she found a small control room guarded by two B1s off to her left. She poked her head around the corner to see if they’d noticed her, but they didn’t. They were focusing on their screens, talking to each other.

“Maybe it’s off course?” One said to the other, and Ahsoka glanced down at Sabine, grinned mischievously, and pulled her around the corner.

Ignoring Sabine’s protests, of “wait, what’re you doing?” Ahsoka readjusted her grip on Sabine before tossing her bodily at the two droids.

“Heads up!” she called right as Sabine crashed into them, knocking their heads off. Ahsoka caught her with the Force before she hit anything else—namely the floor—and lowered her gently. Not that it seemed to matter.

“Ow,” Sabine grumbled as she sat up. “Why did you do that?”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Neither of us have weapons, and we both are too beat to get into another fight. Besides, Skyguy and I do it all the time.”

“You throw the six-foot-tall General Skywalker around like a rag doll all the time?” Sabine asked incredulously as she stood, wincing. In hindsight, chucking the wounded Sabine at the droids was a bad idea.

“No, usually I’m the one getting tossed. I’m sorry, I really didn’t think that through, did I?” Sabine shook her head as she focused on the screens, and Ahsoka grimaced. “We should probably barricade the door. They know we got out, they’ll be sending droids—”

“They’re not,” Sabine cut in, tapping around the console in front of her and frowning. “They’re sending droids… to the landing platform?” She looked up and met Ahsoka’s eyes. “They’re here.”

Eyes widening as she realized what Sabine meant, Ahsoka closed her eyes and threw her end of the training bond wide open. Anakin responded immediately, a rush of reassurance and  _ we’re coming _ that made Ahsoka tear up. She sent back a rush of fear and pain and  _ please hurry _ and  _ I’m sorry. _

“Hey,” Sabine called, “come see.”

Ahsoka opened her eyes and hurried over to look at the screens, where sure enough, the Twilight was landing amid a hail of blasterfire from the droids gathered on the pad. Three blurs leapt out of the cargo bay almost before the ship stopped moving, backed by a hail of blasterfire. Ahsoka could see Rex, Fives, Echo, Hardcase, Kix, Jesse, and Ezra’s squad spilling out and finding cover. Shortly thereafter, another blur joined the action, and Ahsoka realized that that was Anakin, having just parked the Twilight and ready to tear the Seppies apart.

Grinning, she looked over at Sabine, who was flipping through cameras on another screen. Her grin faded slightly when she saw the scowl on Sabine’s face, and she leaned closer to see over Sabine’s shoulder. When Ezra finally appeared on screen, Ahsoka and Sabine both inhaled sharply, because while Sidious wasn’t in the room any longer, Dooku was, and he was holding his ‘saber to Ezra’s throat like he was waiting for rescue to come.

Ahsoka exchanged a look with Sabine, and suddenly she was grateful for the pranks she had helped Ezra plan and set up before he went back to the  _ Negotiator _ . It meant she was able to think on the same wavelength as him, and thus, his sister.

“Weapons first?” She asked, and Sabine nodded, a grim smile on her face.

“They’ll never see us coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of Anakin and Ahsoka doing 'Get Help' so much that I couldn't not incorporate it. Also, yeah, Ezra is not having a good time.


	10. Long Enough to Call It Courage

Being aware of your own heart beating in your chest was an unsettling feeling, but one that Ezra was grateful for. He hated blacking out just to wake up to a shot of adrenaline, or, when necessary, a shock to get his heartbeat back on track. Knowing he was dying every time just made it that much worse, especially when Ahsoka and Sabine had been watching. Force, they’d watched him die four times today. But with the alarms going off, Ezra had to guess that either rescue was here or the girls had escaped. Either way, that meant he was done dying for today.

Dooku was pacing around him like a caged nexu, his lightsaber a constant source of heat around Ezra’s neck. Ezra kept an eye on him as best he could, but most of his attention was fixed on the door, waiting for someone to come in and get him out of this blasted containment field.

Something was changing, though, slowly giving him back his ability to reach out to the Force. Trying to reach out, though, only made him more frustrated as he couldn’t quite do that yet. He couldn’t even deactivate this stupid field, which he was starting to hate with a burning passion.

Frustrated, he let his head hang, only to glimpse one of the vents at floor level open with a hiss. White fog billowed out, and Ezra quickly held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut just in case. He heard Dooku coughing, a very undignified sound for someone who usually was so uptight. A few minutes later, just as Ezra’s lungs were starting to burn with the need for oxygen, a thud resounded through the room, and the sound of air being sucked out of the room reached his ears right before his hair and clothes were all tugged off to the side.

Above him, glass shattered, and Ezra opened his eyes to spot Ahsoka hitting the floor next to Dooku. She gave him a spiteful kick to the ribs before turning to Ezra.

Realizing it was now safe to breathe, he let the air out of his lungs with a racking cough, inhaling only to cough again. Force, his lungs hurt. His whole body, actually, hurt like it hadn’t since Zygerria.

He was vaguely aware of Ahsoka’s hand bracing against his chest before suddenly that thrice-blasted containment field was off and he was collapsing against her. The sound of the door hissing open made him look up, catching Ahsoka’s eye as he did so. He sent her a half-hearted smile before turning his attention to Sabine, who was walking in through the door, her blasters out and pointed at the floor.

“Hey, guys,” he managed, grinning as best he could, “fancy seeing you here.”

Sabine holstered her guns and rolled her eyes, coming up to support him from the other side. “Idiot.”

“Not my fault he decided to string me up, but, you know, thanks for coming to my rescue anyway.” Ezra knew he was rambling a bit, but he thought that could be forgiven. He was hurting and had, after all, died over four times in the last four hours. “How’d you manage to get here with all the alarms?”

Ahsoka huffed as the two girls guided him over to the wall by the door. “The alarms aren’t for us. The others finally got here.”

Ezra grinned again. He’d known they were coming, but it was one thing to know it and another to actually have evidence. “Told you,” he said, before grimacing as he lowered himself to the floor with the girls’ help.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ahsoka replied, but she looked worried as she inspected Ezra closer.

He was well aware that he looked about as bad as he felt, but watching her face fall as she pushed the sleeves of his blacks up to reveal the red Lichtenberg figures crawling down toward his wrists—or elbow, on his left arm—made him feel worse.

“It’s not that bad,” he tried, “not anymore. Just kinda stings.” That was a blatant lie. He was exhausted and hurting all over. There was a fog in his head that he couldn’t shake, muddling his thoughts. He’d been lucky to be aware enough to hold his breath earlier. Taking a deep breath only to end up coughing into his elbow, he shook his head, only to realize that he’d missed one of the two girls saying something. “What?”

The girls exchanged a look. “Okay, yeah, we’re getting you out of here,” Sabine said. “For Force’s sake you’re turning blue.”

“I am not—” Ezra started, only to start coughing again, gasping as he tried to breathe. Sabine was suddenly at his side, propping him up as he leaned over, panting.

“Yes, you are,” Sabine sounded scared now. Oh, crap he's scared Sabine. She was going to give him so much crap for this later.

After managing two relatively good-sized breaths without falling over, he managed, “I can’t leave. I can… I can work through this.”

“Ezra,” Ahsoka said carefully, “You’ve died four times in the last day. If we’re not careful it’s going to be worse. We need to get you out of here.”

With a groan, Ezra leaned back, letting his head thump against the wall as he closed his eyes. Reaching for the Force brought instant relief—both physically and in a wave of emotion over his bond with Kanan. Ezra spared a second to send him an answering ping—nothing to fancy, just an ‘I see that you see me’ type thing, before diving into the Force, reaching carefully with both the training Kanan had given him and the training he’d received from the Sith holocron.

The power that rushed back over him left him staggering. It was intense, a sudden wave of strength that washed the exhaustion out of his limbs and helped clear the fog in his head. Opening his eyes, Ezra met Ahsoka and Sabine’s eyes—the latter of whom had to pick her jaw up off the floor; apparently she hadn’t been anticipating the waves of power he was radiating.

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted, this time with a steady voice. Sabine glanced back at Ahsoka, who shrugged with an expression that said ‘what can you do?’ before sighing. “Okay, fine.” Offering him a hand, she pulled him to his feet.

He rode through the headrush with practiced ease, not so much as swaying as his vision tunneled. He tried to flex his hands, but his left one wouldn’t respond. Growing, he tried again, only to realize what the problem was. “Circuits are fried.”

“Yours or the hand’s?” Ahsoka asked, trying for a smile, and Ezra rolled his eyes.

“The hand’s,  _ di’kut.” _

Sabine sighed. “Anything you can do for it?” When he shook his head, she pursed her lips. “Okay, then. We’ll figure something out. C’mon,” she said as she twirled one of her blasters around in her hand before handing to him. “Couldn’t find your ‘sabers, but that’s not too important right now. We need to get out of here, and find Kanan and the others.”

“What about him?” Ahsoka asked, gesturing at Dooku. “I mean, we can’t just leave him here.”

Ezra exchanged a look with Sabine and they both grinned wickedly. Force, he’d missed this. Ahsoka had gotten better at reading him, and Charger was—had been—really good at it, but no one knew what he was thinking quite like another Spectre.

Sabine hurried over to the controls as Ezra reached out with the Force and shakily lifted Dooku’s limp body up off the floor. Ahsoka seemed to realize what they were doing because she was suddenly helping him get Dooku in position. Ezra let his grip drop and limped over, raising Dooku’s hands above his head and relying on Ahsoka to keep them up until Sabine activated the containment field.

Satisfied that he wasn’t going anywhere, Ezra turned back to the door, only to notice a light blinking in the vent he’d spotted earlier. Frowning, he limped over and yanked the grate off, only to jerk back when he saw what was behind it.

“Sabine!” He called nervously, staring at the bomb, “We’ve got a bit of a problem.”

_______

Anakin was fighting like a maniac, and for once, Kanan didn’t find that unsettling. Instead, he focused on providing cover for the troopers as they scrambled across the landing platform toward the facility. The B1s were easy and had now found a more permanent residence at the bottom of the gorge the landing pad hung over, but the B2s and the MagnaGuards were proving more difficult. So while Rex and the boys laid down cover fire, he was their shield.

With a scowl, Anakin shoved two MagnaGuards together and tore them apart with his ‘saber in a move that reminded Kanan strongly of Vader, and okay, now, maybe he found it unsettling. Especially with the dark cloud hanging over him.

Thankfully Obi-Wan noticed at about the same time, and called out, “Anakin! Anakin, you need to calm down!”

Doing his best impersonation of a hurricane, Anakin steadfastly ignored them. He was hacking through droids, who, due to the narrow hallway that led out onto the landing pad, were all lined up for him and couldn’t shoot without hitting each other.

Grimacing, Kanan ran after the two senior Jedi, leaving Ashla and the troopers to secure the landing zone. The hallway was riddled with corpses and burn marks from the wildly swung ‘sabers, and Kanan automatically ran a hand over the walls to guide him. Some habits were hard to break.

Inside the control room the hallway led to, Obi-Wan had Anakin by the arm, tugging him away from the hallway that led further into the facility. “Anakin, this is exactly what Sidious wants, this is why he took Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan was saying, and Anakin tried to shrug him off.

“She’s scared, Obi-Wan, she’s scared and I don’t know where she is—” Anakin sounded desperate as he struggled against Obi-Wan’s hold.

Obi-Wan cut him off. “And we’ll find her, but we do her no good by playing into Sidious’s hands. You need to control yourself—”

Another door at the opposite end of the room slid open and a group of B1s spilled out, looking at the Jedi. The Jedi looked back at the droids. In the beat it took Anakin and Obi-Wan to remember that  _ droids = bad, _ Kanan had launched himself across the room and had thrown two of the droids back with the Force, deflected a blasterbolt into another droid, and had decapitated another three in one fell swoop. The remaining droids fell in the time it took Anakin and Obi-Wan to reignite their lightsabers.

Kanan turned to them, glaring. “If you’re going to bicker in the middle of a battlefield, at least keep an eye on the battle around you. You’re no good to Ahsoka with a blasterbolt in your head.”

Anakin looked at him for a second then turned to Obi-Wan. “It’s like having another you.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “He has a point, Anakin. We do need to keep a better eye on the battlefield, which I can’t do if I’m worrying about you.” His tone was kind, making the words seem less like a scolding, but Kanan just rolled his eyes.

“We need to get moving, they know we’re here,” he reminded them as Ashla and the troopers—save for Kix and Hardcase, who were guarding the landing platform—hurried into the room.

“Right,” Obi-Wan said before giving Anakin a meaningfully worried look and taking off down the hallway leading further into the facility, Kanan right on his heels and the rest following behind.

The hallway came to a crossroads, and when Obi-Wan looked back at him and Anakin, Kanan closed his eyes and reached out across the bond to try to locate Ezra. It only took him a minute, but Ezra latched onto him the moment he found him. Relief nearly knocked Kanan off of his feet, relief that Ezra was okay for the moment, that he was alive, that he had access to the Force and thus a decent way to protect himself until Kanan could do so for him.

“This way,” he directed them.

Anakin pointed the same way when he opened his eyes. “They’re okay for now, but we need to hurry. Ahsoka won’t tell me much.”

Kanan nodded. The kids were under no small amount of stress, so it was understandable, though still aggravating, that they weren’t being very communicative.

Nodding, Obi-Wan gestured to Ezra’s squad. “Adenn, take your men, follow Kanan to where Ahsoka, Ezra, and Sabine are; Anakin, Ashla, myself, and the rest of the men will track down Sidious.”

“Copy that, Sir,” Adenn said, and Kanan gave the Jedi Master a questioning look.

“You sure about this?”

Obi-Wan just pursed his lips. “We need to get to them while he’s distracted, and the three of us are better duelists, we’ll be able to take him.”

“He killed three Council members, including Master Windu,” Kanan reminded him, and Obi-Wan gave him a strained but still reassuring smile.

“We’ll be fine, Master Jarrus. Now go, find our missing ones.”

Nodding, Kanan took off down the hall, Ezra’s troops right on his heels.

_______

“Well, this is just perfect,” Sabine said, her shoulders tense as she carefully lifted the bomb—which was about the size of a human head—out of the vent. “But why would he put a bomb in here?”

“It’s a self-destruct.” Ahsoka’s eyes were wide, and her hands were inching closer to her belt, like she was trying to grab her ‘sabers. “Sidious had another base on Mustafar, and when we compromised it, it fell apart under our feet. But this base might be built into the bedrock, so…”

Ezra nodded. He’d been in enough buildings being destroyed to know why bombs were essential. “Can you disarm it?”

Sabine sucked in a breath as she examined the outer workings. “I think so? But it’ll take some time.” She looked up at the two Jedi. “Unless the two of you can help?”

Ahsoka perked up. “I have some bomb-disarming skills.”

“You don’t have your lightsabers,” Ezra reminded her, remembering the story with the bombs on Kiros.

“I have no bomb-disarming skills,” Ahsoka corrected herself in the same perky tone of voice, and Sabine muttered a curse.

“Well, then, this is going to be bad. I’m not good at disarming this kind of bomb, it went out of use years ago, and I’m even worse on a tight schedule.”

Ezra grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to come up with some sort of work-around. “Did you see who all is here?”

Ahsoka nodded. “Rex, Fives, Echo, Hardcase, Jesse, Kix, your boys, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ashla, and Kanan.”

“Okay,” Ezra said, turning to Sabine, “You’re going to start working on getting the bombs disarmed. Ahsoka, you’re going to find Rex and the boys. Hardcase and Lockjaw should be able to help with bomb disposal. Try to find our lightsabers if you can, and see if you can’t get Fives or Echo to track down where all the bombs are.”

“On it,” Ahsoka said, throwing him a quick two-fingered salute and running out the door.

Sabine looked up at him from the bomb, which she’d managed to open up. “What about you?”

Ezra pulled out the blaster she’d lent him. “I’m gonna watch your back.”

________

Ahsoka could only hope they’d done the right thing by splitting up. They had no means of communication, after all, and she had no weapons, other than her ability to use the Force. But against a Sith Lord, she was quite sure that wasn't going to be enough.

Thankfully the hallways were mostly clear. For a base as big as this one, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of droids on guard duty—She cut that thought off with a curse as she rounded a corner and almost ran right into half a dozen B2s, all facing the other way.

They all turned, lowering their arms to open fire, and she tensed, preparing to have to dodge literally every blasterbolt they sent her way, but before they could shoot, the sound of a lightsaber behind them made them hesitate and half-turn toward the new threat.

The Force rang in alarm and Ahsoka hit the floor, just in time to avoid being hit by a flurry of blasterbolts from the same direction. The lightsaber was suddenly right on top of the droids, from the sound of it, cutting through them with ease. In a matter of seconds, the droids were all smoking on the ground, and Ahsoka cautiously poked her head up.

Kanan disengaged his lightsaber, looking relieved as she climbed to her feet. “Ahsoka!” He hurried forward, resting a hand on her shoulder and looking her over. “Are you okay?”

Nodding quickly, Ahsoka glanced past him to see Lockjaw, Adenn, Club, and Scorch picking their way toward them, and offered them a quick smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Bit of heatstroke, exhausted, and sore, but otherwise, great.”

“And Ezra and Sabine? Where are they?” Kanan asked frantically.

She pointed over her shoulder the way she’d come. “Disarming a bomb. The base is riddled with them as a failsafe. They wanted me to find you guys and get Hardcase and Lockjaw working on helping them.” She left out the part where the three of them had two blasters between them, figuring that could wait until later.

Kanan still didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Fine, we’ll split up and cover more ground.” He pulled out his commlink. “Rex, change of plans. We need your squad working on bomb disarmament.”

_ “What?” _ Rex’s voice was loud, but Ahsoka didn’t care. It was his voice, and he was here. That was what mattered. _ “No offence, sir, but you’re not exactly in a place to issue that kind of order. We have to stick with our Generals.” _

“That’s an order, Rex, and Anakin can take it up with me if he’s got a problem with that,” Ahsoka cut in, and immediately, another voice was on the comm.

_ “Ahsoka!”  _ Anakin yelled, and this time, Ahsoka winced. The feedback over the comms was making her montrals hurt. _ “Where are you, are you hurt? I’m coming to get you—” _

He was cut off by yet another voice, this one at a much more reasonable volume.  _ “No, you’re not, Anakin, we need you here. Ahsoka,”  _ she straightened at the sternness in her Grandmaster’s tone,  _ “be careful, and for the love of the Force, follow orders this time.” _

Ahsoka nodded, even though Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Rex couldn’t see it. “Will do, Master. And hey—be careful. Palpatine is still here.”

_ “Perfect,” _ Anakin said grimly, and Ahsoka shivered.

As if sensing her discomfort, Kanan took the comm back. “We need someone to hack into the central computer and get the schematics, we need to know where the bombs are. Then Hardcase needs a few men at his back as he disarms a third of them, Lockjaw, you’ll take another third, and Sabine can handle the rest.”

“We’ll stick with Lockjaw, sir, if that’s alright,” Adenn said, and Kanan nodded.

“I want one of you with me, though.”

Club stuck his hand up like he was in class in the Temple or something, and softly said, “I’ll go. I’m assuming we’ll be backing up the commander?” Kanan raised an eyebrow and Club added, “I mean Commander Jarrus.”

Nodding, Kanan turned to Ahsoka. “Unless you had something else in mind?”

Ahsoka blushed slightly, not wanting to admit this over an open comm, but decided necessity was more important than embarrassment, and said, “Actually, I was hoping we could track down a few, uh, necessary items.” She gestured with her hands at her empty belt, and Kanan sighed.

From over the comm, Anakin seemed to know exactly what she’d just indicated.  _ “Snips, did you lose your ‘sabers?”  _ The unspoken again had her rolling her eyes, but she really wasn’t in a position to say anything. He wasn’t wrong, after all.

Kanan just rubbed a hand over his face and heaved another sigh. “I’m guessing Ezra doesn't have his either?” When she shook her head, he cursed under his breath and patted his left hip, where a second blaster was hanging. “And he doesn’t have his blaster, either…”

“Sabine lent him one of hers,” Ahsoka put in, deciding it was best not to mention he didn’t have a functioning hand at the moment, either. That was something Kanan could freak out about later.

“Okay,” Kanan said, nodding. “Club, you’re with me and Ahsoka as we try to find the ‘sabers. Adenn, you, Scorch and Lockjaw are going to have to wait until Rex’s squad can get you the schematics, same with Hardcase’s team.”

Rex added over the comm, _ “I’ve sent Fives to go get them, but we do need someone to find the other kids—” _ Ahsoka let out a  _ hey, _ but was ignored  _ “—and get them commlinks. We have no way of communicating with them.” _

_ “We’ll just have to hope we run into them sooner rather than later,”  _ Obi-Wan commented, and Ahsoka couldn’t disagree. Depending on how fast Sabine worked, she could be done already, and they could have moved on, trying to find the next bomb.

_ “Okay,” _ Anakin sounded peeved, still, but at least he was agreeing. _ “Sounds like a plan. Everyone ready for when it inevitably goes off the rails?” _

A chorus of  _ yes, sirs _ rang out, and Kanan tucked his commlink away. “Let’s go.”


	11. Til Our Hands Get Tied by the Stubborn Will of Gravity

To say he wasn’t happy with the plan would be a bit of an understatement. Anakin hated the plan. It left two groups without Jedi, and one group with no means of communication and only a pair of blasters between them. Splitting up was never good. Situations like this were the ones that brought the most trouble.

Not that he didn’t trust everyone here to be able to look after themselves, he did. It was just that with them all spread out like this, it was impossible for him to be able to protect them all.

Jesse finished placing the last of the charges around the security door before hurrying behind cover. The bombs lit up, sparked for a second, and then the door fell to the ground.

“Uh-oh!” One battle droid yelled right before Rex shot his head off his body.

That first blasterbolt served as a signal for everyone else to charge forward. Ashla was gracefully lethal as she ducked and twirled between the droids, slicing them to molten ribbons. Obi-Wan hung back, blocking any attempts of the droids to shoot at the troopers in the hallway.

Anakin, meanwhile, jumped into the room, took one look at the droids who were attempting to flee, and smirked. He charged forward, slashing left and right before yanking the last droid, which had been trying to open the door, right onto his ‘saber.

With a mechanical cry, the last droid fell, and Echo, Jesse, and Rex all filed into the room, Echo removing his helmet as he sat down at the computer terminal. Rex took his time picking over the corpses of the droids, making sure they were actually all dead.

“Alright, I’m in,” Echo announced, and Anakin deactivated his lightsaber as he hurried over to stand by his shoulder, watching next to Ashla as he accessed the schematics. “Pulling up the infrastructure overlay… Kriffing hell.”

“Language,” Rex said, accompanying it with a swat to the back of his head, before stopping short when he saw the nearly two-dozen red modules spread across three levels of intricate hallways.

The first level was a series of chambers and observation rooms looking out onto the lava, presumably. There was a second landing platform on the second level, which looked to be more of what Anakin was expecting: rooms that looked like cells, security stations, and what could have been storage facilities. The third was a factory, similar to the one Anakin had been in on Geonosis shortly before he and Padme were captured, though this one was probably to process the lava into metal rather than make droids.

The red dots were scattered equally throughout.

“Blast it,” Obi-Wan muttered, “we’ll never get them all.”

Anakin nodded. They couldn’t afford to leave any of them active, but getting the men and Ezra and Sabine enough time to disarm all of those was going to be nearly impossible.

Ashla clenched her jaw. “We’ll have to try. If any of them go off, it could send the base crumbling into the lava flow.”

“Not all of the base,” Echo corrected, pointing to an observation deck on the other side of the middle level, off of the second landing pad. “That area is secured into the bedrock, and there are no bombs near it. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s where Sidious is.”

Anakin nodded. “Okay, transmit the schematics to everyone. Kanan and the others are down in the second level, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Rex reported, “and if I had to guess, I’d say Sabine and Ezra are there as well.”

“Right. Tell Lockjaw and his group to head down to the third level, they’ll be in charge of defusing the bombs there. Hardcase can take level one, and hopefully Sabine and Ezra can handle level two. Right now, we need to head to that observation room.” Anakin hoped the other Jedi didn’t mind his giving the orders, but they all nodded, so apparently it was fine.

Echo placed a thermal detonator on the computer console, indicating he was done. Anakin made sure everyone else was ready to go before reigniting his lightsaber and gesturing towards the door.

“C’mon, let’s get moving,” he said, and they filed out through the second door, the one the droids had tried to escape through. As soon as Obi-Wan, who was bringing up the rear, cleared the doorway, Echo pressed a button on his gauntlet and the detonator exploded, creating a sharp boom that left Anakin’s ears ringing.

They ran through the hallways, Rex navigating as he had the map pulled up on his holocom. Ashla was right behind him, where she could easily leap in front should they come across any droids. From right behind her, Anakin caught her glancing back a couple times, but not at them. Instead, she seemed to be glancing toward the ground, like she was tracking something below them. The only question Anakin had was, was she tracking Ezra or Ahsoka? Deciding it didn’t really matter, so long as they were both alive, Anakin sent her his best reassuring smile before squeezing past her so that he was running next to Rex.

“How much further?” He asked, and Rex glanced over at him before answering.

“We’re almost to the lifts, sir. From there we just need to get to the landing platform,” Rex helpfully pointed to the locations on the map as he replied, and Anakin nodded. Good. They were almost there.

The lifts were outside, for some reason, the hot wind whipping ash and spurts of lava around like confetti. They managed to all fit on one, with only six of them, but it was tight, and Echo, Rex, and Jesse all surrounded the Jedi, protecting them from the lava splashes with their bodies. Anakin paid careful attention, trying to deflect the lava before it came too close, but it was difficult and more than once he caught one of the troopers flinching as lava caught them in one of the gaps in their armor.

The lift reached the second level, and Anakin hopped out, shepherding everyone past him toward the door inside. He and Ashla took up positions in front of the door, Obi-Wan behind them and the boys flanking them. Glancing around to make sure everyone was ready, Anakin nodded to Rex, who palmed the door open.

Nearly two dozen MagnaGuards and another couple dozen B1s and B2s were standing with their backs to the door, leaving barely any room left. At the sound of the door opening, they all turned around, and Anakin barely had time to lift his ‘saber before a flurry of bolts was headed their way.

Beside him, Ashla was moving with a familiar grace to block the blasterbolts, ducking out of the way of Rex’s shots. Anakin, too, kept an eye on Echo and Jesse beside him so he wouldn’t accidentally reflect their bolts back at them. But despite the number of bolts being sent and reflected from the doorway, they weren’t making any real headway.

The MagnaGuards apparently had decided they were tired of the endless back-and-forth, though, and marched forward, twirling their electro staffs menacingly. Anakin braced himself, sent a pulse through his old bond with Obi-Wan to let him know what he was about to do, and leapt forward, Ashla right on his heels.

Shoving the lead droid back, Anakin lunged forward, spearing it through its torso, then turned and clashed blades with another droid. This one, he cut the arm off of, then cut it in two. Everywhere he turned, there was a new droid, and by the time he’d cut one down, two more had sprung up in its place. His arms were starting to ache, and they hadn’t even gotten to Palpatine. They needed a miracle, now more than ever.

At that moment, several dark shapes appeared on the window on the opposite wall, one of whom had a glowing blue blade, all hurtling towards plexiglass. They crashed through, and Anakin ducked his head, trying to avoid the spray of shards. Looking up, he was shocked to see Barriss Offee, Commander Wolffe and the rest of the Wolffepack, accompanied by one irate-looking Lasat.

“About time!” Obi-Wan called from the doorway, and Anakin grinned.

Maneuvering around so that he was back-to-back with Barriss, he shouted, “What kept you?”

“We came as soon as we could,” Barriss replied seriously as she deflected both a blasterbolt and an electrostaff in the same stroke. “But Master Koon had to get his fleet mobilized, and then the 327th and the rest of the 501st came along—they’re holding off the Separatist fleet.”

“There’s a fleet?” Ashla demanded from where she was sweeping the legs out from under a MagnaGuard, and Barriss nodded.

“We beat them here, but only barely. Sidious must have thought he had more time before you found him.”

Anakin couldn’t disagree. He’d expected to find more resistance. Up until this point, it had mostly been easy going, just a bunch of B1s and the occasional B2. Now, they were nearly overwhelmed. It was better now, with reinforcements, so they were still outnumbered nearly two to one.

But Anakin liked those odds.

Running another MagnaGuard through, he spotted a blaster bolt heading towards his head and instinctively ducked. The droid behind him fell with a cry, and Anakin turned toward the shooter, scowling.

Only for the scowl to dissipate when he saw Ezra and Sabine running in from the hallway. Ezra’s left arm was strapped to his chest, but he had a smoking blaster pistol in his right hand. Sabine looked ragged, but otherwise, she seemed intact. That was good.

The touch of an electrostaff to his back made him scream and jerk away, whirling around to engage the MagnaGuard in a duel. The droid was good—for a droid. He still managed to slash its chest open within a few seconds, then whirled back around, trying to find Ezra and Sabine in the midst of the chaos.

They were ducking behind one of the consoles that lined the walls, Ezra taking potshots while Sabine stayed under cover. Anakin wasn’t sure why—he’d seen a blaster pistol in her hands as well when they’d run in but didn’t have time to question it because another MagnaGuard—one of the last ones—was marching toward them. Ezra fired off shot after shot, all of them dinging uselessly off of the edges of the droid’s armor.

Immediately, Anakin jumped forward, putting himself between the droid and the kids. The droid didn’t scowl, but he got the distinct impression it would’ve if it could’ve. Instead all it did was slash toward Anakin’s chest with its staff, and Anakin quickly blocked, then using his right hand grabbed the staff, twirled and ducked under it to pull it out of the droid’s grasp, then in the same smooth motion chopped the droid’s left arm and head off.

As the droid fell to the ground with a mechanical whine, Anakin turned back to the kids, standing in front of them as their shield right as a new wave of B1s and B2s marched into the room from yet another doorway.

“What’s Sabine doing?” Anakin called over his shoulder to Ezra.

“Disarming a bomb, get down!” Anakin obeyed, hitting the floor as Ezra laid out a stream of blaster bolts, taking down several B1s at once.

Realizing that Ezra couldn’t shoot with Anakin directly in front of him, he rolled away before standing and covering Ezra from an angle. Together, they managed to whittle away at one end of the reinforcements, while the others held their attention.

As the last of the droids went down, Anakin looked over his shoulder. ”How much longer on the bomb?”

“Almost got it—yes!” Sabine met his eyes, and he was struck by how karking young she was. Then he remembered that he was only a year or so older than her. That didn’t seem right, that they were both barely adults and in the middle of a battle so monumental. “We’re clear,” Sabine was saying, and he mentally shook himself. Ruminate on ethics of sending young people to war later. Focus on eminent encounter with a Sith now.

“Perfect. Here,” He tossed them a pair of commlinks right before Zeb noticed them and barreled his way through the corpses of the droids.

Anakin jumped out of the way before he was hit by a flying wall of fur, but Sabine and Ezra weren’t as lucky. They got hit full-force, and both grunted in pain at the impact.

“Don’t you two ever do this to us again,” Zeb sounded suspiciously shaken, but when he pulled away there was no sign of tears. “We were worried sick.”

Obi-Wan and Ashla were next, both fussing over the two. Next to Anakin, Rex shook his head. “I’m glad you’re both okay. Captain Rex,” he added, sticking out a hand for Sabine to shake, “since we haven’t officially met.”

Anakin wasn’t quite sure why Rex had used such a mischievous tone of voice, but Sabine shook his hand. “Nice to officially meet you, too.” She kept a straight face, except for a slight twinkle in her eye, and Anakin just shook his head in confusion. Ezra’s family were an odd bunch, and they were infecting his Captain and his Padawan.

“Are you both alright?” Barriss asked, disengaging her ‘saber. “You look a bit…”

“We’re a little worse for wear.” Ezra gestured to his limp left arm, and Anakin remembered that he’d most likely been electrocuted. If Ezra’s arm hadn’t been properly insulated, the circuitry could have fried. Grimacing, Anakin opened his mouth to ask if he could take a look at it, but he was cut off before he could say anything.

“What happened to your arm?” Zeb asked, looking around in askance. Clearly, it bothered him that no one else seemed surprised, and with a grimace, Anakin realized he hadn’t been filled in on what happened on Kadavo.

Ezra just waved him off. “It’ll be fine, I just need to get it looked at later.” Sighing, he sank to the floor next to the now deactivated bomb, wiping the sweat off of his brow.

Barriss hadn’t been exaggerating; he looked terrible. He was covered in sweat, and pale as a sheet of flimsi, except around his mouth, which looked slightly blue. Coupled with the fact that he was shaking and panting shallowly, and he looked like a strong wind would knock him over.

“We should call a med evac,” Anakin said, trying to ignore the hurt look Ezra sent his way. “You’ve gone into cardiac arrest four times in the last five hours, you should be in the medbay, not running around disarming bombs. You and Sabine both.”

Ezra scoffed, shoving his hair out of his face. “I’m not leaving, not until all of you do. You guys need Sabine here to disarm bombs, and I can watch her back. We’ve taken care of most of the droids by now, I can handle just a few more.”

“Ezra, you look like you’re about to fall over,” Ashla said gently.

Next to her, Obi-Wan nodded. “You really ought to go.”

Shaking his head, Ezra forced himself up onto his feet. “I can’t, not while you all are here. Same reason I couldn’t stay behind on Coruscant. Couldn’t leave you guys alone then, can’t now.” He turned to Zeb, a pleading look in his eye. “Please, Zeb. You know why I can’t let you guys do this alone.”

Zeb sighed. “Karabast.” Straightening, he looked Ezra square in the eye. “You avoid engaging where you can, and as soon as the last bomb is disarmed, you leave for the  _ Resolute  _ immediately. Understand?” Ezra nodded, and gave a clearly forced smile.

Anakin just shook his head. “I don’t know, I have a bad feeling.”

“About the mission in general or about us staying?” Sabine asked, and Anakin shrugged.

“I don’t know. Could be both, could be either. Just watch yourselves out there. We didn’t stage a rescue just for you to get yourselves killed.”

Ezra gave him a tired two-fingered salute. “You got it, General.” He hesitated a moment, then pulled Anakin to the side. “Look, I’m sure Obi-Wan has said something already, but you know Sidious is going to do everything he can to get you mad, right?”

Anakin nodded, pursing his lips. “That’s probably why he took you three. He knows I wouldn’t be able to just leave you.” It hurt to admit, but Palpatine probably knew him almost as well as Obi-Wan did, if not better. This was so clearly a trap for him, he hated to admit he walked into it.

“Exactly,” Ezra said, “And he’s going to keep trying to get a rise out of you. He might say stuff, and most of it… might only be a partial truth. Sith are good with those.” Anakin wanted to know why Ezra sounded like he was speaking from experience, but before he could, Ezra pressed on. “You’re going to get mad—don’t look at me like that, you know you are—but you’re going to have to—”

“I know, I know,” Anakin cut him off, not wanting to get this lecture from yet another person. Force knew Obi-Wan was going to give it to him later. “Don’t give into it, push it down.”

Ezra frowned. “No, I was going to say let yourself feel it. You just can’t let it control you. You have to use the power of your anger and the focus of your Jedi teaching. I don’t know how else to explain it to you, but that’s how I managed to beat Krell.”

Anakin nodded slowly, turning Ezra’s words over in his mind. It didn’t quite make sense to him, but he got what Ezra was trying to tell him to do. Or he hoped he did. He’d find out when he faced Sidious. “Got it.”

“No, but you will,” Ezra said, a strange look on his face, and Anakin wondered if he knew something Anakin didn’t. If he did, though, he didn’t say anything about it. “Just be careful.” With that, he turned and followed Sabine’s lead as she headed off into the facility again.

Anakin watched them go with no small amount of anxiety. He wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t like this. He had the nagging feeling something was about to go terribly wrong.

_______

This wasn’t the most exciting task Club had ever been assigned, but then, he really didn’t care much for ‘exciting.’ Master Jarrus—Club refused to call him Kanan despite what the Jedi Master insisted—was bringing up the rear, while Commander Tano led the way. Apparently she could sense where her lightsabers were, which was just… the coolest thing he’d ever heard, and he’d heard some pretty cool things.

They passed another intersection, and Club couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure you know where you’re going?”

Commander Tano nodded without looking back. “It’s just up ahead. One more left—” She led them around that turn and immediately scrambled to a halt.

Six B2s were guarding the door immediately on the left. As one, they turned on Ahsoka, and Club quickly shoved her out of the way, landing in a crouch next to her and firing off three shots. The first hit one droid right in the processor, the next two hit a second droid in the torso. Both went down, before the next two were assaulted by two streams of blasterbolts.

Master Jarrus was using two blaster pistols, crossing his wrists to hold them sideways in a very gunslinger-esque maneuver. If it helped him keep them steady, though, Club wasn’t going to nitpick, nor was he going to ask why the Jedi wasn’t using his ‘saber.

He got his answer anyway a second later when Master Jarrus stopped firing, ducked behind a support strut, and tossed his ‘saber over toward Club. “Ahsoka, here!”

Commander Tano grabbed the ‘saber in midair and charged the remaining two droids, while Jarrus and Club both gave her cover fire. In moments the two droids were in pieces, and Master Jarrus was holstering both pistols. Club lowered his weapon, and the three of them made their way into the room, Commander Tano tossing the borrowed ‘saber back to its original owner.

Club quickly checked the corners to make sure there were no droids hiding inside the room, while Commander Tano immediately rushed over to one of the lockers, yanking it open with a loud, “Hah!” and grabbing two lightsabers that Club immediately recognized as hers. She pulled out a third, one Club didn’t recognize but assumed was Ezra’s, and tossed it to Master Jarrus.

“Alright, let’s get out of here. We’ve got some Sith  _ shebs  _ to kick,” she announced gleefully, and Club had to suppress a shudder. She looked a bit scary baring her fangs like that.

Master Jarrus nodded and pulled out his commlink. “Skywalker, we’ve got the ‘sabers. Where do you want us now?”

_ “Kanan!” _ Ezra’s voice immediately came from the comm, and Club and Jarrus both straightened.  _ “Good to hear your voice.” _

“Ezra!” Master Jarrus sounded relieved as he clutched the commlink tighter. “Where are you, are you okay?”

_ “Yes, and I’m with Sabine, we’re heading to disarm the last few bombs on this level.” _

General Kenobi’s voice broke through the conversation.  _ “‘Okay’ is a bit of a stretch, Ezra.” _

_ “Alright, but I promised Zeb I’d hop on a LAATi as soon as we finished disarming these last few bombs, so I’ll be fine, assuming you guys can do your job,”  _ Ezra was clearly teasing, which Club wasn’t sure Master Jarrus appreciated.

“Wait, what do you mean, you promised Zeb? Zeb isn’t here.”

Club hadn’t known Ezra very long, just a month or so, but even he could tell the commander winced before answering _. “He kind of brought reinforcements.” _

_ “An’ you should be grateful I did, too, or you’d be down three Jedi and three men,”  _ a gruff voice came over the comm, presumably this ‘Zeb.’  _ “Just be grateful I listened to you on the calling Hera part, or you’d be getting another earful from her right now.” _

Master Jarrus massaged his forehead before responding. “Just… stay out of Sidious’s way. And Dooku’s, if he’s here.”

“He’s here,” Commander Tano volunteered. “He was the one doing the interrogating.”

_ “Why, that utter piece of—” _ General Skywalker broke into a series of Huttese curses that made Club want to cover his ears. _ “Kanan, we’re sending Barriss your way, take her, Club, and Ahsoka and secure Dooku. If we can capture him…” _

Club nodded, but didn’t say anything. He knew they’d still have Grievous to deal with, but without Sidious and without Dooku, they’d be able to bring the Separatists down much more easily.

“Copy that,” Master Jarrus said before turning the comm off. Turning to Club and Commander Tano, he raised an eyebrow. “Ready?”

Commander Tano nodded, and Club offered a salute. “Yes, sir.”

_______

Unsurprisingly, the landing pad had a ship on it, ready and waiting. Anakin was tempted to tell Rex to have the boys blow it up, but decided not to. Instead, he nodded towards it and asked Echo, “Think you guys can get that out of here? We might need it later.”

Echo nodded, and gestured for Jesse to follow him. Together, they disappeared into the ship. A moment later, the engines started up, and as the ship took off into the smokey clouds, Anakin felt the thick cloud of darkness hovering over the observation deck across from them spike in anger. Palpatine was definitely there.

A narrow set of metal stairs led from the pad to the observation deck, and Anakin glanced over at Obi-Wan and Ashla before signaling for Rex to stay here and stepping gently onto the first step. It creaked eerily but held.

Cautiously, the three of them filed up the stairs, a tense silence between them only broken by the hissing of the lava and the creaking of the stairs. Anakin had his ‘saber in his hand, unlit but ready, as he gingerly stepped onto the balcony surrounding the observation room. The windows were tinted so he couldn’t see inside, but simply reaching out with the Force would have told him who was inside.

Once they were all at the top, Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, raising an eyebrow as he asked how he wanted to handle this. Obi-Wan flashed quick signals to indicate the plan, and Anakin turned to Ashla to interpret it for her, only to find her nodding along, like she understood. Catching him looking at her, she signed, ‘I know’ in their little code language, and Anakin felt a spike of hurt that Obi-Wan had taught her their secret code. Only him, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka were supposed to know it.

Pushing that aside, he also nodded, following Obi-Wan around to the blast door that served as the only entrance. Obi-Wan ran a hand around the door frame, checking for traps before nodding to them and igniting his ‘saber, Anakin and Ashla both following suit.

Together, the three of them gathered a burst of power in their hands, compressing it until it reached the point of exploding, then threw it at the door, which buckled and flew backwards into the room with the force of the shove. It skidded to a halt at Sidious’s feet, who looked at them with a curious gleam in his eye.

“Did you really think you could assault me here, in my own base? You think you stand a chance?”

“We’re not the ones monologuing,” Ashla threw back at him as they rushed forward into the room, falling into their opening stances. Anakin would have given her props for the imaginative quip, but figured now wasn’t the time.

Sidious snarled. “Ah, yes, the mysterious Togruta. Tell me, are you loyal to Skywalker because of the Skywalker boy?”

Ashla flinched, and Anakin tightened his grip on his lightsaber. What was he talking about? Did he mean Anakin and Padme’s unborn child? Or… Remembering his conversation with Ezra onboard the  _ Twilight  _ all those months ago, he felt a sudden burst of hope. Maybe he had been right.

Now really wasn’t the time for that, though. From the head of their little group, Obi-Wan shifted stances, holding his blade parallel to the ground and pointing two fingers at Sidious. “It’s over, Sidious. Surrender, and we will show you the mercy you did not show us.”

“The vaunted Jedi compassion,” Sidious sneered. It was hard to find any resemblance to the kindly Chancellor Anakin had known for years, and the thought hurt more than it should have. This was the karking Sith Lord, not his friend. Certainly not the man Anakin had thought he was.

Sidious continued, ignorant of Anakin’s thoughts. “No, I will not be surrendering. But if you value the lives of your compatriots, you will.” With a triumphant smile, he pulled out a small device and showed his hand.

Anakin hissed as he realized that Sidious had the detonator on him. Glancing over at Obi-Wan, he tightened his jaw. Obi-Wan responded with a twitch of an eyebrow and they all reluctantly lowered their lightsabers.

Sidious started cackling, spreading his hands mockingly. “Is this all the Jedi Order could manage? A rogue Jedi, a failed master, and a Falling knight?”

As Sidious laughed, Obi-Wan twitched his fingers and Anakin reacted, pulling the detonator out of Sidious’s hand. Obi-Wan lurched forward—to grab it or destroy it, Anakin wasn’t sure—but he was a hair to slow. Sidious jerked his hand and the detonator went flying off to the side.

With that, the duel had begun. Sidious threw himself forward, howling in rage with both lightsabers lit. Obi-Wan caught one ‘saber while Anakin caught the other. Sidious kicked out Anakin’s knee, forcing him to roll to the side to avoid being sliced in two.

Immediately, Ashla was in his place, slashing high and low to try to put Sidious on the defensive. Somehow, though, he was able to fend her and Obi-Wan both off for the few seconds it took Anakin to climb back to his feet and throw himself into the fray.

Sidious shoved Obi-Wan back with the Force, sent a bolt of lightning Ashla’s way, making her duck, then attacked Anakin, switching to defend himself from Obi-Wan when he attacked again. Shoving them all back, Sidious spread his arms and summoned bolts of lightning, forcing Anakin and Ashla to catch them on their blades. The force of the lightning sent them sliding backward, till their heels were touching the wall on either side of the door.

Obi-Wan took that as an opportunity to attack, driving Sidous backward a few steps before Sidious got a blow in and grazed the side of Obi-Wan’s arm. Yelping Obi-Wan dropped back, right as Ashla threw herself headlong at the Sith. Anakin was moments behind her, dashing forward and slashing as soon as Sidious was in range.

Somehow, he was able to fend off both of them, even turning the tide and forcing Anakin onto defense. Anakin wasn’t sure how he did that, but with the speed he was moving at and the strength of his blows, he knew Sidious had them outmatched.

Time for a new strategy.

Anakin shoved Sidious back with the Force, then yanked him forward again, intending to impale him on his lightsaber. Sidious, however, turned his forward momentum into a surprisingly agile flip, going over Anakin’s head and rolling on the ground. He came up right in front of Obi-Wan, and after a few blocked blows sent him flying backwards with a swift kick to the chest. Sidious then flipped backwards, standing in the middle of the room several feet from any of them.

Cackling, Sidious showed his hand, and Anakin felt the blood drain from his face. The detonator was clutched in his hand, his thumb hovering over the button. “And now, Skywalker, you will pay the price for your insolence.”

He pressed the detonator, and for one blissful second, nothing happened. Sidious frowned, and Obi-Wan smirked.

“You were saying?”

The floor shook as a single explosion rocked the base.

______

Sabine quickly wiped the sweat off of her forehead as she removed the last piece of paneling on the bomb she was working on. According to the map Rex had given her and that the others were updating as they went, this was the last bomb on the base. It’d only take her a minute to disarm it—she wasn’t great at disarming this kind of bomb, but she was definitely better than she had been this morning.

Ezra peered over her shoulder as she worked, and she waved a hand to tell him to back off. “Watch the door, Ez, not me.”

“I am watching the door,” Ezra protested, before coughing into his elbow..

She snorted. The only door into the observation room they were in was behind them. It was the same observation room Sidious had been in when they’d been being interrogated, so they were right back to where they started, and boy, oh, boy did Sabine find that ironic.

“With the Force, 'Bine,” Ezra reminded her, and she nodded as she pulled another component out of the housing. That made sense, after all.

She reached in to follow the detonator wire to the payload, only for Ezra to tense up next to her. The moment he did, the bomb lit up, and she had time to think,  _ kriff, _ before Ezra was grabbing her and pushing her behind him. He threw up his working hand like he was trying to stop the explosion—or rather, redirect it, up into the ceiling--before a deafening boom rang out and light nearly blinded her. Sabine felt herself go flying before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-dun!


	12. Young Enough to Sign Along the Dotted Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah.... so, I'm sorry about the two-week break with no update and no explanation. Real life happened. I'm going to complain about it at the end of the chapter if you want a more detailed explanation, but here I'll just apologize and humbly offer you this chapter to make up for it.

Kanan froze, staring ashen-faced in the direction the explosion had come from. Next to him, Ahsoka blanched. “Was that—”

“Sabine,” Kanan answered breathlessly, opening his side of his bond with Ezra as wide as it would go. “And Ezra,” he added when he realized Ezra’s side of the bond was silent. With a glance back at Club, Barriss, and Ahsoka, he ordered, “Let’s go!”

______

Anakin had never wanted so badly to scream in rage. His men—his  _ friends _ —could have been caught in that explosion—most likely  _ had  _ been caught. Even from the nearly opposite side of the facility, it had sounded large. Which meant it had to be bad.

Through his bonds, he could feel Ahsoka’s panic and Obi-Wan’s fear. The two of them were even closer to most of the potential victims—no wonder they were afraid. He could empathize, but he preferred the motivation of anger to the paralyzation of fear.

Sidious laughed, dropping the detonator and reigniting his second lightsaber, and Anakin turned on him, anger coursing through his veins and making his lightsaber shake in his grasp. “That’s it Anakin, use your anger. Let it fill you, fuel you—”

He was cut off by Anakin’s vicious attack, raining blow after blow toward his head. Sidious scrambled back a step before parrying a blow with one ‘saber and throwing a bolt of lightning with his free hand.

Anakin dropped to the floor with a scream. He thought he’d be ready for Sidious’s lightning, seeing as he’d experienced Dooku's lightning more than once. But this was so much worse. Dooku’s had set every nerve on fire; Sidious’s burned every cell in his body. After a second or two, he blacked out.

He came to to the sound of lightsabers clashing and Sidious still laughing like a maniac. Glowering, Anakin hauled himself up to his feet. If Sidious thought their pain was amusing, maybe he’d find his own even more so. With a scream of rage and pain, Anakin threw himself at Sidious, alternating between pushing Sidious around with the Force and raining heavy blows on his ‘sabers.

No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t seem to break Sidious’s guard. It infuriated him even more, and he blindly struck out, hoping to catch Sidious somewhere where it would hurt. Instead, he felt his ‘saber being knocked out of his hand and another blast of lightning connecting with his chest.

He flew backward again, this time remaining conscious as the last of the electricity seared through his body. He didn’t understand—using the anger had made him feel more powerful, like he should have been able to beat Sidious—or fall right into his trap, he thought, the realization hitting him like a wave of icy water.

This was what Obi-Wan, Kanan, and Ezra had all warned him about. But he couldn’t just ignore the anger—it was too much, too strong. So instead he did what Ezra had been trying to tell him to do.

Closing his eyes, he harnessed his anger and the serenity of meditation and reached for the Force. He was expecting a steady stream of power, not the wave that hit him, and for a moment he thought he was going to drown in the tidal wave that crashed over him. The memory of Obi-wan patiently teaching him how to mediate broke through, though, and he was able to focus.

Gathering the power around him like a cloak, Anakin opened his eyes.

_______

Sabine regained consciousness slowly, her eyelids fluttering open cautiously, only to immediately shut when dust stung her eyes. Wincing, she reached up and rubbed her eyes, trying to get the grit out of them. Her head ached, and breathing was more difficult than it should have been.

More carefully this time, she opened her eyes again, only to frown in confusion. It was just as dark with her eyes open as it was with them closed. She was on her back, but no ceiling was visible. Reaching up, her fingertips brushed rock, and vague memories started coming back. The bomb… the ceiling coming down… Ezra!

Immediately she sat up, or tried to. Her head hit the ceiling of the little space she was in at the same time her ribs protested the sudden movement, and she lay back down with a racking cough that shook her entire body. So getting up was out of the question, but she had to find Ezra. If he was buried somewhere in the rubble, he wouldn’t be able to breathe, and with the time he’d already spent not breathing today, it wasn’t something his body would be able to tolerate. It was probably just the Force that had kept him going for that last little bit, and now…

Now she had to get to him. Carefully, she tried to drag herself to the left, only to scream in pain as something pressed heavily onto her right leg. Groping around blindly, she managed to locate the stone block that was digging into her leg—that had broken her leg, she realized as she tried to wriggle out from under it. Somehow, she managed to lift the block just a millimeter or two, just enough that she was able to pull her leg out from underneath it.

With a gasp of relief, Sabine rolled over and crawled to her left, where she vaguely recalled there being a console with a lip. That might have been what created the little cave she was in. Her hand brushed warm metal, and she realized she’d found it. Now, Ezra had been only a few feet away from her, closer to the bomb…

Crawling under the console’s lip, she managed to find something—a metallic object that lit up ever so slightly when she pressed the button on its side—and realized it was a dying flashlight, which showed her that the space she was in was about the size of the  _ Phantom II, _ just with much lower ceilings. Vaguely she saw Ezra in front of her and crawled forward, only for the battery to die before she could reach him. Cursing, she tossed it to the side, hearing it bounce of the surrounding duracrete.

Ezra’s face was cold when she reached him, but he was breathing and had a pulse, which was fast and faint but definitely there. With a sigh of relief, she reached forward, exploring with her hands how much of Ezra’s body had been trapped by the cave-in.

There was a large chunk of duracrete on his chest, pining his right side down and resting at an angle on his left side and arm. His abdomen and everything below it was covered as well, but the two pieces on his chest looked like she could move them—if she was able to stand, at least. But he could breathe, and that was what was important.

Shuffling around, she found that she could sit up and cradle Ezra’s head in her lap if she leaned her head a certain way. Carefully, she examined his head for any obvious signs of blunt force trauma, but aside from a small cut that was trickling blood into his hair, there were none.

Sighing in relief, Sabine sat back, wincing as the motion made her head spin. Her vision might have doubled, but it was impossible to tell with how dark it was. She probably did have a concussion.

“Don’t worry, Ez,” Sabine whispered, wincing at how unnaturally loud her voice sounded in her ears. “We’ll be out of here soon. Just hold on.”

_______

Obi-Wan went sliding backward, bracing himself to keep from falling over. Sidious was cackling, throwing lightning with one hand and wielding one deadly lightsaber in the other.

Ashla caught a blast of lightning on one ‘saber and slashed at Sidious with the other. He ducked the first swing, but blocked the second.

Obi-Wan launched himself at Sidious then, aiming for his back, but Sidious kicked Ashla back and blocked Obi-Wan’s blow with his ‘saber, and Obi-Wan had to disengage to avoid a blast of lightning.

He was about to attack again when something in the Force shifted, like a stubborn dam had finally broken free, letting the Force flood through the galaxy. Obi-Wan stumbled as the sense of  _ right  _ slammed into him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ashla stumble as well, while Sidious blanched. But his attention was on something else.

Anakin was standing slowly, the metal floor bending and peeling away as he did. His eyes were glowing white, and his usually open face was unreadable. His lightsaber flew into his hand from where it had landed, igniting the moment it slammed into his palm.

Obi-Wan gaped. He’d only felt Anakin’s power to this extent on Mortis, but somehow, this was even more impressive. Perhaps because Mortis had been saturated in this kind of power, or maybe because even on Mortis, Anakin had never felt this balanced.

Sidious snarled and hurled a bolt of lightning at Anakin, but he just raised a hand and… caught it. He gathered it in a ball and sent it hurtling back at Sidious, leaving the Sith Lord stumbling backward in literal and metaphorical shock.

Obi-Wan sent a shocked look over to Ashla, who shrugged before throwing herself back into combat. Obi-wan followed, staying behind Ashla and stepping in whenever Sidious’s ‘saber came too close to her.

It was Anakin, though, who held Sidious’s attention. Just as Ashla threw herself back into the fray, Anakin hurled his lightsaber at Sidious, who barely deflected it with his offhand ‘saber. Anakin didn’t stop there, though, calling his lightsaber back into his hand as he jumped at Sidious, bringing his ‘saber down in vicious stroke after stroke.

Ashla was striking low, aiming for his knees and ankles while Obi-wan kept his offhand ‘saber engaged. Sidious was dancing between the three of them, but unlike before, now he was strictly on the defensive. Anakin was a beast, knocking him around with both the Force and raining blows from every direction.

The dance came to a halt when Ashla stumbled. It was minute, her foot just barely catching on one of the panels Anakin had peeled away from the floor. Sidious still managed to take advantage of it, kicking her in the gut and sending her and Obi-Wan flying backward with a Force-shove.

Obi-Wan hit the wall with a grunt, the air leaving his lungs in a rush. Through his darkening vision he saw Sidious turn on Anakin, twisting his ‘sabers around Anakins’s and sending it flying off to the side.

Opening his mouth to cry out and trying to lift a hand so he could do something, Obi-Wan was surprised when Sidious tried to stab Anakin, only for Anakin to  _ grab  _ the blade and yank it out of Sidious’s grasp. Sidious stared in shock for a second, just long enough for Anakin to call his ‘saber to his hand. Then he seemed to remember that he had a second ‘saber and lunged at Anakin, who blocked the blow, sending Sidious’s blade up just enough for Anakin to slice the hilt in two.

Sidious snarled and hurled a stream of lightning at Anakin, who just caught it on his ‘saber. Pouring more lightning into it, Sidious yelled, “You should have joined me, Anakin! Together, we could have brought peace to the galaxy!”

“Says the man who perpetuated a war,” Ashla called as she stood. Obi-Wan followed suit, igniting his ‘saber as he fell into the opening stance of Form Three.

“All you would bring would be darkness, fear, and chaos,” Anakin said, the edges of a snarl in his voice. “I will never join you.”

Sidious sneered. “Then perhaps the Skywalker child will.”

Inhaling softly, Obi-Wan prayed Sidious hadn’t found out about Ezra, only to remember that Padme was pregnant. Hopefully, he meant that.

Either way, the comment was enough to make Anakin attack again, this time with even less caution. He wasn’t enraged, though. He was just certain.

Sidious called his remaining ‘saber back to his hand in time to block the blow, but not in time to deflect Ashla’s slash across the back of his legs. Obi-Wan caught his ‘saber as it arced toward Anakin’s chest, and Anakin scored a hit across Sidious’s chest as he neatly sidestepped the falling Sith Lord.

Sidious hit the ground with a sigh, like the air was leaving his lungs. Obi-Wan kept a wary eye on him for a moment before reluctantly disengaging his ‘saber, Anakin and Ashla following suit.

“Is he…?” Ashla asked softly, and Anakin frowned as he carefully knelt and turned Sidious over onto his back.

Sidious chose that moment to snap his eyes open and grab Anakin by the throat. Cackling madly, Sidious exclaimed, “I will not be beaten! I am the Lord of the Sith!” As Obi-Wan and Ashla leapt forward to help, a single blaster shot rang out, and Sidious lost his grip on Anakin, grabbing his wrist and screaming in pain. Anakin leapt up into the air, shoving downward as he did. The floor beneath Sidious gave way, and Sidious had time for one last terrified look before he fell toward the lava below.

Anakin fell toward the opening as well, but Obi-Wan lunged forward and grabbed him by the wrist. Across from him, Ashla did the same, grabbing his opposite wrist and helping Obi-Wan pull him up onto solid ground.

Panting and leaning over, Anakin glanced up. “Thanks, Rex.”

In the doorway, Rex twirled a blaster pistol before holstering it. “Just doing my duty, sir.”

“Still, thank you,” Ashla said, hooking her ‘sabers onto her belt.

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement, then turned to Anakin. ”Are you alright?”

Nodding, Anakin stepped away from the hole in the floor. “I’m fine. Let’s go find the others and get out of here.”

_______

It was Ahsoka who led them up into the observation room—or tried to, at any rate. They had to cut the doors open because the explosion had apparently cut power to that section of the base. they fell with a dull clang and Kanan hurried through the hole, taking in the room as fast as he possibly could.

The walls on the opposite side of the room were scorched, and the ceiling had collapsed in the middle of the room, dumping duracrete, steel, and volcanic rock into a large pile that stretched from one side of the room to the other and leaving the room open to the sulfuric atmosphere.

There was no sign of Sabine or Ezra.

“Sabine! Ezra!” He called anyway, hoping they were just on the other side of the debris pile and not somewhere underneath it. “Sabine! Ezra! C’mon, say something,” he muttered the last bit as he waved Ahsoka, Barriss and Club into the room. “Spread out, start looking.”

Just then, his commlink went off, and he scrambled to answer it, hoping against hope…

_ “Kanan!” _ Sabine’s voice echoed through the room, and he thought he could vaguely hear it coming out of the leftmost part of the pile. _ “I can hear you, Ezra and I are both under here!” _

Breathing a quick sigh of relief, Kanan asked, “Are you okay? Can you move?”

_ “Concussion, cracked ribs, broken leg. I can move, but Ezra’s pinned and unconscious.” _

Kanan grimaced. That wasn’t great. Not terrible, but definitely not great. “How much air do you think you have?”

Sabine hesitated before answering.  _ “Enough for now, but you need to clear a hole soon. I can't see enough to tell how big the space we’re in is.” _

“Okay,” Kanan said, nodding at Ahsoka and Barriss before setting his commlink on a nearby console. “Let’s get them some air.”

Bracing himself, he mentally grabbed hold of the biggest piece of rubble and lifted. Straining, he threw it back to the opposite side of the room, grimacing at the resulting shockwave that knocked dust and smaller pieces of debris loose. Sabine let out a yelp that Kanan could hear both through the open commlink and through the thick wall of rubble that separated them.

“Gently,” Barriss suggested as she and Ahsoka worked in tandem to lift another chunk of duracrete and set it down carefully. Kanan rolled his eyes, but proceeded more carefully.

After a minute or two of clearing big pieces, Sabine called out,  _ “Okay, I can see! You must have gotten through.” _ Kanan nodded and set down his current load. That was good, that meant she and Ezra weren’t in danger of suffocating. Club, who had been by the door, clambered forward and started digging through the debris, trying to clear a hole so they could climb in and out. Kanan was about to join him when Sabine spoke again.

_ “Kanan, there’s… there’s blood. A lot of it.”  _ She sounded confused, and her words were slurred together in a way that suggested the concussion was starting to get to her. Or maybe he could just hear it better now that she wasn’t shouting.

Still, hearing that there was blood made about a million alarms go off in his head. “Is it your leg? Are you hurt somewhere else?”

_ “No, Kanan—” _ Sabine must have shifted because suddenly the sound of rocks skittering over metal rang from the comms _ “—it’s not mine.” _

Kanan froze.  _ Ezra _ .

______

Anakin’s comm rang when they were about halfway through the facility. Given how Obi-Wan’s, Rex’s and Ashla’s all chimed at the same time, it must have been a general call. Probably from whoever had found the site of the explosion.

“Skywalker here,” he answered, the others crowding a bit closer even as they ran. More voices—Hardcase, Echo, Lockjaw and Wolffe—checked in simultaneously, then Kanan spoke up, saying exactly what Anakin didn’t want to hear.

_ “It’s Sabine and Ezra. they were disarming the last bomb—she’s banged up, has a few broken bones, but he’s pinned and according to Sabine there’s blood everywhere.” _

Anakin swore loudly in Huttese, the sentiment echoed in Mando’a across the comms. “How bad?”

_ “We can’t tell yet, we’re still trying to dig through the rubble. But we need a medic here, yesterday.” _

Nodding, Anakin ordered, “Kix, double-time it to their position, we’re on our way as well—”

_ “General, we’ve got a situation,” _ Lockjaw interrupted, and Anakin could have groaned.  _ “Grievous is here, and he’s helping Dooku escape. We’re in pursuit, but we need back-up.” _

Obi-Wan brushed shoulders with Anakin. “We’ll take care of it. You and Rex get to Ezra.” With that, he and Ashla split off, running down a nearby corridor toward where Lockjaw’s group was. Anakin watched them for a split second before they were out of sight and he was having to focus on following the holomap to where the last bomb had been.

They were there in a matter of minutes. Kanan and Club were on their knees, digging through the pile of rubble, while Barriss had a commlink in her hand and was saying something in a calm voice, something that sounded like instructions.

But Anakin’s attention was on his Padawan, who had just set down a larger piece of rubble when they stepped through the hole in the door. “Ahsoka!” He called, quickly wrapping her in a hug before stepping back to look her over.

She was filthy, her shoulders were drooping in exhaustion, and she was shaking ever so slightly, but she managed a small smile for him. “Hey, Skyguy. You look like  _ osik.” _

Anakin huffed. “Says you. Sit down, I’ll take care of this.”

“I can’t,” Ahsoka confessed. “If I sit down, I’m not going to be able to get up.”

Giving her a sympathetic look, he gently shoved her down onto the block of duracrete she’d just hauled out of the pile. “Then I’ll carry you out. Sit.”

She huffed but complied, crossing her legs and resting her chin in her hand. Anakin patted her shoulder before turning to check out the progress the others were making.

They were trying to create a tunnel in and out of the little cave Sabine and Ezra were in, shoving aside armfuls of rocks and dirt. This part of the base had been directly under the soil, not under the base above, so while most of the inner layer of debris would be metal and duracrete, most of the outermost layer was just rocks and dirt.

Rex had joined them, taking off his bucket so he could breathe easier. He probably wished he’d kept it on, though, because the air stank of sulfur and sweat, and underneath it all, the metallic scent of blood, which was getting stronger the more they dug.

Anakin helped where he could, holding the dirt above the hole in place with the Force and helping move the bigger pieces, but even then, Kix, Fives and Hardcase had shown up before they broke through. Kix had his emergency kit with him, a grim feeling of resolve around him, and Anakin hoped he would actually be able to help.

Finally, Kanan shoved a sheet of metal to the side, using it to prop open the hole, Sabine’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Thank the Force. He’s cold, and his breathing is only getting shallower. I don’t know how long he has.”

Kanan vanished into the hole, followed quickly by Kix. Anakin crouched by the hole, looking inside as Kix strapped a brace to Sabine’s leg. The little cave had been created by two crossing support beams, one of which was resting on a wrecked console off to his left. Ezra and Sabine were at the far end of the cave, Ezra half-buried in the wall of dirt. He’d need to be pulled out of there as soon as possible.

Frowning, Anakin evaluated the ceiling. If he and Kanan made a concerted effort, they could probably push the whole thing off to the other side. The rest of the men would have to clear the room to make sure they weren’t hit by the moving debris, but it’d be doable. They’d just need to get Sabine out of the cave first.

Thankfully, Kix had the same idea. “Here, ma’am, let’s get you out of here.”

“But, Ezra—” She tried, and Anakin swallowed hard at the desperation in her voice.

“They'll get him out. Right now, we need to get you to the medevac,” Kix said gently, carefully guiding her as she scooted over to the hole. Anakin extended a hand and helped pull her through.

As soon as she was out, Ahsoka and Barriss were beside her, supporting her weight as they helped her limp over to the block Ahsoka had been sitting on. As Barriss did a quick assessment, Ahsoka knelt in front of her. “Are you okay?”

Anakin vaguely heard Sabine answer, “I will be,” in a reluctant tone of voice as he pushed himself through the hole. Kanan and Kix looked up from where they were crouched by Ezra’s head. Sabine hadn’t been lying; there was a pool of blood about a foot and a half in diameter where the kid was lying. He was pale, his lips and the surrounding area were blue, and his face was covered in dust while his hair was covered in blood both from the floor and from a cut on his hairline.

Reaching over, Anakin checked his pulse, which was thready at best, before turning to Kix. “Think you can shield him while we get this stuff off?” Kix nodded, and Anakin turned to Kanan. “Focus on the beams.”

As Kanan nodded, Kix called into the opening, “Everyone clear the room, we’re going to get the rubble off of him!”

A few moments later, Fives called out, “We’re clear!” and Anakin lay down, preparing himself to shove the debris off and away. Beside him, Kanan did the same, while Kix used his body to shield Ezra.

Anakin glanced at Kanan, who mouthed, on three? and nodded. Silently, they both counted to three, then Anakin opened himself up to the Force again and shoved. The beams that were holding up the ceiling were thrown clear to the other side of the room, taking most of the debris with it. Some of it bounced off of the opposite wall, but Kanan was able to catch most of those. Anakin caught the few he’d missed, then breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden rush of clean air. Now that he wasn’t trapped by the claustrophobic lack of space, he was aware of just how much it had been bugging him.

A thud over by the door drew his attention, and he was surprised to see Fives standing in the doorway, a block of duracrete at his feet and eyes wide like he’d just been caught in the headlights of an oncoming speeder.

Anakin opened his mouth to ask what had happened when Kanan shouted, “Look out!” Anakin whirled around in time to see one last piece of rubble that had been perched on top of the console tipping over, about to hit Kix and Ezra. He reached out, but knew he was going to be too slow. Kix raised his hands like he was trying to stop it, but that wasn’t going to do anything—

Except that it did. Somehow, mid-fall, the stone slowed, paused for a moment, then cautiously set itself down next to Ezra’s head. Anakin looked over at Kanan, then back at Kix, who was looking at his hands in shock, then back at Kanan, who just shrugged, like he didn’t want to deal with that right now. Anakin agreed with that sentiment.

“Fives, get the others back to the  _ Twilight,  _ get them out of here. Tell Echo to keep his ears on, we’ll call him for an evac once Ezra’s stabilized,” he ordered, then turned to his medic, who was in some sort of daze. “Kix. Kix, you need to start assessing Ezra.”

Kix snapped out of it and quickly tried to lift the duracrete block off of Ezra’s chest, only for Ezra to cough slightly, spraying red froth on his lips. His eyes fluttered open as he gave a choked gasp, whimpering in pain with every breath.

“Ezra!” Kanan called, scrambling forward so that he was kneeling at Ezra’s side. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay—” Ezra’s eyes rolled back up into his head and he went quiet again, leaving Kanan staring at him desperately, waiting for him to wake up.

He didn’t.

“His ribs are probably broken, might have punctured a lung,” Kix said as he probed what little of Ezra’s chest he could reach. He reached one spot right under the block and grimaced. “Definitely broke his ribs.”

“We need to get this off of him,” Anakin said, gesturing at the block, and the rest of the rubble covering his legs and abdomen.

Kanan nodded in agreement, and together they started clearing off his feet, working their way up. As they did, Kix was putting a mask over Ezra’s mouth and nose and administering what Anakin guessed to be either painkillers or sedatives. He probably wouldn’t want to be awake right now.

Thankfully, Ezra’s legs weren’t broken too badly, but they were definitely broken. His right leg was twisted out of position at the knee, making his toes point the wrong way. It made Anakin’s stomach turn.

Soon enough, they’d reached the last block, the one sitting on his chest, and took up positions on either side of him. Anakin braced himself and lifted, but he only got about an inch or two up off of Ezra’s chest before Kix was screaming, “No, no, set it down, don’t lift it!”

Immediately, Anakin lowered it back down, giving Kix a frightened look. Kix never used that tone of voice outside an emergency, which, Anakin realized as the blood pool underneath Ezra suddenly doubled in size, was what they had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here goes: First, we had the holidays--yay, Thanksgiving, turkey and pie--then we had not one, not two, but three birthdays all within the same two-week span, and so of course family came in to celebrate. Oh, but there's Covid-19 to worry about, you might say, to which I say, too kriffin' right there's Covid-19 to worry about! Needless to say, one of the people who came to visit tested positive and so we all had to get tested, and then wait 2-3 days just for the test results to come back negative.   
> And then--and then!! My depression kicked in and I got stuck in a rut thinking my writing sucks and I was very tempted just to delete it all, but then I remembered that that you guys were actually liking the story so I just decided to wait until I dragged myself out of the rut to start posting again.   
> So yeah. That happened. It sucked. It's over now, and now you start getting chapters again. Huzzah.


	13. And It Breaks Us New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General warning for blood and medical stuff, mentions of IVs and that sort of thing. Just, you know, a head's-up, cuz I know that can bother people.

“There’s metal rebar going through his chest,” Kix told them grimly, and Kanan felt his blood run cold.

“How bad?” Anakin asked in a stricken voice, and Kanan glanced over to see that the younger Jedi’s face was ashen.

Kix gestured as he spoke. “It’s going through his right side, so it missed the heart, and it’s too high up to have hit the liver, but it’ll have gone right through his ribs and punctured his lung. No wonder he’s coughing up blood,” he added in an undertone, and Kanan shuddered.

This was happening—and it was happening to his Ezra. His Padawan, his son, was inches from death and Kanan could do nothing. Suddenly he realized that on his feet wasn’t a good place to be, and he fell to his knees, clasping Ezra’s right hand in his own.

“You stay with us, you hear me? Stay with us,” He whispered, aware that tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes.

Kix huffed and pulled out bandages. “One of you needs to lift up the block high enough for the other to cut it free. We can’t remove it without collapsing Ezra’s lung and I don’t have the equipment to deal with that here. As it is, he’s having trouble getting air. See the blue around his lips? He’s suffocating, drowning in his own blood.” When they didn’t immediately move, Kix scowled. “Now!”

Quickly Kanan pulled out his lightsaber and waited for Anakin to lift the block off of Ezra. The moment he could see the _ (bloody, rusted, oh Force that had been in his  _ **_son_ ** _ ) _ rebar, he carefully cut through it.

“Get it off!” He ordered Skwalker, who quickly threw the hunk of duracrete to the side.

Immediately, Kanan sheathed his ‘saber and scooted over to Ezra’s side. There was a bloody slash between his ribs, where a piece of rebar had torn open his left side, and another piece of rebar stuck in his left wrist, but the worst injury was definitely the hole in his chest.

It tore straight through his right pec, leaving his blacks tacky with blood as the wound wept without the rubble applying pressure. The piece of rebar looked chipped, like it had splintered under the pressure, and Kanan felt nauseous thinking that it could have splintered  _ inside  _ Ezra.

As soon as the block was off, Kix was pressing bandages on either side of the rebar, trying desperately to curb the flow of blood. With a curse, he jerked his chin towards his medkit. “Get me more gauze, this is soaked through!”

“Kriff, and he’s bleeding from his side,” Anakin said, grabbing more gauze and handing some of it to Kix before pressing the rest to the jagged tear in Ezra’s side.

Kanan grabbed Ezra’s hand again and squeezed it, even as he sent as much energy as he could through the bond. He couldn’t help otherwise—Kix and Anakin had it covered, but he could give Ezra just a bit more juice to keep him going until they got back to the  _ Resolute. _

Grabbing his comm, Kanan called, “Zeb, we need you! Ezra’s in bad shape, we need you to carry him to the landing platform!”

_ “On my way, Spectre One,”  _ was Zeb’s gruff reply.

Kanan pocketed his comm and grabbed Ezra’s hand, only to suddenly feel cold, like he’d stepped onto the surface of Hoth with no protection. Eyes widening, he jabbed his fingers into the pulsepoint on Ezra’s neck, only to feel nothing. Pressing his ear to Ezra’s chest gave the same result, and he instantly was calling, “He’s crashing, Kix, do something!”

“Move!” Kix ordered, shoving them aside and pushing down on Ezra’s chest with a steady but clearly panicked rhythm. “Don’t do this, kid, c’mon, don’t do this…” After a beat, he nodded to Kanan. “Rescue breaths. Tilt his head back, pinch his nose. Go!”

Kanan nodded, doing as Kix instructed. Anakin kept the strips of gauze in place on Ezra’s chest, and Kanan could only pray to the Force that it wasn’t all in vain. He could still feel Ezra in the Force, but it was difficult, like there was an unbreachable gap between them, that was widening by the second.

“Ezra, stay with us, stay with us, don’t you dare go anywhere…” Kanan found himself muttering, just before Kix checked his breathing and pulse and exhaled forcibly.

“He’s back.”

Kanan wasn’t so sure—he was still so far away in the Force, so distant…. No, Kanan realized with a start, not distant, just really, really dim. Flickering in and out of existence, dim. He felt something cold wrap around his heart at the realization that Ezra was actively dying right in front of him.

“I broke a couple more ribs,” Kix was saying as he wrapped and secured more bandages around the rebar, tying it in place so it wouldn’t come loose and tear through more of Ezra’s chest. “Help me prop him up.”

Anakin and Kanan started to comply, only for them to simultaneously realize that the piece of rebar in Ezra’s wrist was pinning him down to the ground. Anakin gritted his teeth and sighed before whipping out his lightsaber and, in one swift motion, cut Ezra’s hand off a few inches below the elbow.

Kanan gasped in shock, only to have Anakin quickly tell him, “It’s fine, he already lost that arm. We can replace it later. Come on, let’s move!”

Kanan helped him prop Ezra up, and Kix swore. “Metal went right through him,” was all the explanation he needed to give, and Kanan grimaced. Why did it have to be Ezra? Hadn’t he been through enough?

Kix swiftly bandaged his back, applying some sort of antiseptic before nodding to Kanan and Anakin, who set him down again gently. Kanan kept pressure on his chest while Kix shoved Ezra’s knee back into place, holding his breath every time Ezra’s stuttered. It was bad, he knew, bad that Ezra’s breathing was only getting shallower, bad that he was growing paler as more blood leaked out of him—

“Can you do a transfusion?” Kanan asked, and Kix looked up, startled.

“Yeah, I have the stuff, but General Skywalker’s only got a fifty percent chance of being a match—”

Kanan cut him off, rolling up his sleeve. “I’m O positive, he’s A positive. We’re a match.”

Kix nodded and pulled out a line, cleaning Kanan’s arm before inserting the needle, then doing the same for Ezra on his good arm. Kanan didn’t so much as cringe at the prick of the needle, just stared at Ezra as his bandages grew more and more crimson.

“Where’s Zeb?” Anakin asked, and Kanan reached out with the Force, finding Zeb’s signature not too far away and getting closer by the second.

“Nearly here.”

They sat in tense silence for a few more minutes, watching as Kix used the mask to make sure Ezra was getting enough oxygen. He’d already flatlined five times today, going without oxygen for a total of… Kanan did the mental math and came up with five and a half minutes, which meant he’d been suffering from hypoxia for nearly two hours, since the third time he’d flatlined.

“How’s he doing?” Anakin asked, and Kix responded with a grim look.

Kanan offered his own, even less reassuring opinion. “He’s dying. Slowly, but he’s in pain and slipping away.”

Anakin knelt next to him, clenching his jaw. “Can you do anything?”

“I’m already doing it,” Kanan answered, turning back to Ezra and tightening his hold on his Force signature. _ I’m not letting go of you, kid, so don’t you dare let go of me. _

Zeb came barreling through the doorway, panting, only to pull up short at the sight that greeted him. “Oh, sweet Ashla…” he muttered as he stumbled back a step, then hurried forward. “Anything I should be mindful of?”

“Don’t jostle the metal pole,” Kix ordered as he removed the transfusion line from Kanan’s arm, then Ezra’s. “It’s keeping a lot of his blood in his body, and keeping his lung from collapsing. His legs and ribs are broken, too.”

“Karabast.” Zeb quickly and gently scooped him up, cradling Ezra to his chest like he was still the fourteen-year-old streetrat they’d accidentally adopted. He looked so frail in Zeb’s arms, so pale and… was he breathing?

Kanan felt ice pour down his back as Ezra’s presence in his mind dimmed again, nearly going out. “Zeb, set him down, set him down now!”

Zeb started but complied, setting Ezra down as gently as possible. Kanan quickly checked his heartbeat and cursed when he found none. “Kix—!”

Kix was already on it, shoving down on Ezra’s chest like his life depended on it, and Kanan quickly tipped Ezra’s head back, pinching his nose shut and trying very hard not to think about how Ezra’s life was literally in their hands right now.

Tense seconds passed, the only sounds Kix’s quiet counting and Kanan’s breathing as he blew air into Ezra’s lungs. He sat back as Kix checked his airways again, then his breath and pulse before starting another round of compressions.  _ Not like this,  _ he thought _ , I won’t lose you like this. _

Another rescue breath, and as Kanan pulled away, he felt a whisper of a breath on his cheek. Quickly waving at Kix, he checked Ezra’s pulse and nearly collapsed with relief. He was back.

Without needing to be told, Zeb scooped him up again, this time breaking out into a run that Kanan, exhausted and sore, had to push himself to keep up with. They hurried through the facility, heading toward the secondary landing pad.

They were nearly there when Anakin thought to pull out his comm. “Echo, we’re coming up on the secondary landing platform, we need you to meet us there!”

_ “General, Grievous is on that pad, we won’t be able to land,” _ the clone who answered protested, and Anakin scowled.

“Blast his ship off, if you have to, just be there, we need to get Ezra out of here.” With that, he hung up and took off, somehow overtaking Zeb even though he had to be at least as tired as Kanan, if not more so. Somehow, he just seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy to tap into—which, knowing how strong he was with the Force, made sense.

As they got closer to the landing pad, though, Kanan came to realize what exactly the trooper had meant by Grievous was there. Grievous wasn’t just parked there; from the sounds of it, the battle had migrated that way. Kanan raced out onto the platform behind Zeb and Anakin, but ahead of Kix, so he was able to push the clone to the side when the rocket a B2 had launched nearly hit him.

Zeb growled and ducked behind cover, next to Wolffe, whose men were holding the line. It was Ashla and Obi-Wan, though, who were carrying the battle. Despite having already faced a Sith in battle that day and winning, they were holding their own against Grievous and Dooku, respectively.

Kanan pulled himself and Kix behind cover, tossing the medic Ezra’s blaster before leaping over the makeshift barricade and into battle. He focused on the droids that had apparently accompanied Grievous, rather than the Sith and the cyborg. Anakin, however, threw himself at Dooku, backing up Obi-Wan’s every move.

As the number of droids steadily dropped, thanks to both his lightsaber and the clones’ impeccable aim, Kanan fell back, eventually finding himself next to Zeb, who was crouched protectively over Ezra’s limp body and firing his bo-rifle while screaming in rage. “Come and get some, you lousy clankers!” Kanan heard him say, and quickly had to catch another rocket and send it hurtling back to the droid that fired it.

The ensuing explosion destroyed the last of the droids and threw everyone on the landing platform off their feet, except Grievous. As Kanan pulled himself up to his feet, he saw the cyborg grab Dooku and pull him to his feet, the two of them running to the Lambda class shuttle before the Jedi could even get to their feet.

Next to him, the clones scrambled to fire on the ship as the ramp slid up and the doors sealed themselves behind the two Separatist leaders. Anakin threw himself through the air, landing on the hull of the shuttle and stabbing it with his lightsaber, leaving the shuttle smoking as it took off. Whoever was in the pilot’s seat started to lean to one side, and Kanan realized what they were about to do a split second before Anakin did.

Thankfully, Anakin jumped off the ship before its pilot threw it into a corkscrew that would have forcibly knocked him off into the lava below. Landing in a crouch, Anakin sheathed his ‘saber before turning to Obi-Wan and Ashla. Kanan heard him start to ask if they were okay before Zeb started yelling.

“Kanan! He’s seizing!”

With a curse, Kanan sheathed his ‘saber and threw himself toward them, sliding on his knees to land next to Ezra as he seized, making choked sounds of agony as he did. Kix was next to them a heart beat later, sticking a hypospray into Ezra’s neck and pressing down on the plunger. Zeb was holding him down, looking absolutely gutted as the kid continued to writhe under his hands.

A minute or so later, Ezra stopped moving, and for a moment Kanan felt pure relief that the seizure was over, only to be thrust into action by Kix’s call of, “We’re losing him, starting compressions!” and immediately the relief was replaced by a feeling of pure dread, because now, he couldn’t feel Ezra at all.

It wasn’t just that his presence was dim, it was just completely gone, leaving not even an impression of his existence in Kanan’s mind. Ezra was gone.

Dumbly, he sat in shock, staring as Kix continued to count as he shoved down on Ezra’s chest with the strength to break bone, unaware of the medic’s orders to start  _ rescue breaths, Kanan, he needs air, damnit! _ Because it didn’t matter. They’d lost him.

Suddenly Kanan was being shoved to the side by the force of nature that was Anakin Skywalker. The younger Jedi pushed Kix aside as well, pressing a hand to Ezra’s forehead and to his chest, right above his heart. Something shifted in the Force as Anakin’s brow furrowed in concentration, and for a moment, Kanan dared to hope that maybe, just maybe this could be fixed. But as the seconds slipped away, that hope faded. Then, just as Kanan was about to tell Anakin to stop, Ezra suddenly and softly inhaled, and Kanan was bowled over by the sensation of Ezra’s presence flickering back to life in his mind.

With a sob, Kanan pushed Anakin aside and grabbed Ezra’s hand, clutching it like a lifeline. “Ezra,” he whispered, “Ezra, don’t you dare do that again, you hear me? Don’t you dare.”

Zeb let him hold onto Ezra for a moment before gently pushing him back. “We’ve got to get him on board,” he explained softly, nodding over Kanan’s shoulder at the ship that had landed sometime in the last few minutes.

Nodding, Kanan let go of Ezra’s hand and stood, swiping at his eyes and letting Zeb go in front of him to the waiting shuttle.

________

The shuttle ride to the  _ Resolute  _ was tense; the three hours in hyperspace on their way back to Coruscant were even more so. Kix had whisked Ezra off to the medbay immediately, leaving the rest to sit around in Ahsoka and Sabine’s shared room waiting for news.

Ahsoka was going to be fine. She was dehydrated, exhausted, sore, and in desperate need of a good meal—or five, Obi-Wan was quite sure she wouldn’t be picky—but otherwise, she was fine.The lightsaber wound on her lek had already scabbed over, all it needed was some bacta to encourage it to finish healing. 

Sabine was a different story. She had been electrocuted for extended periods of time, though not as badly as Ezra had been, she insisted, and her leg was broken and her ribs cracked. A bone knitter was working on the latter two problems, while a quick soak in bacta helped with the burns and possible calcification from the first problem.

As Rex, Anakin, Kanan, Sabine, Ahsoka, Ashla, and himself sat around, they had nothing to do except watch Kanan and Ashla for signs of how Ezra was doing. Ashla was more communicative then Kanan, who sat in brooding silence except for the occasional breathless gasp that signaled that Ezra had flatlined again. She was the one to tell them what that gasp meant, since none of the rest of them were quite close enough to Ezra to be able to tell when it happened.

After a little bit, Zeb strode in. “I commed Chopper, told him I was on my way back.”

Ashla nodded, and from next to Ahsoka, Anakin asked, “What exactly did you tell him?”

“That the people who were going after Sidious needed help, and I was going to bring it,” Zeb said, sinking onto the bed at Sabine’s feet, tossling her good leg affectionately. “Didn’t tell him about you, or about the two kids. Didn’t want him comming Hera and spilling it to her. She’d have rushed right into the thick of it.”

“I thought you were in favor of telling her,” Obi-Wan said, not sure what had caused the change of heart in the Lasat.

Zeb shrugged. “I was. But Kanan’s the boss. If he says don’t tell her, he’ll have a damn good reason as to why. And,” He added sadly, “after seeing what happened down there… I wouldn’t want her anywhere near there either.”

Kanan nodded, but otherwise remained silent. The whole room followed suit, no one really sure what to say. That planet had been one of the worst places Obi-Wan had been to since the war had begun, and now he needed to come down from it all.

He needed a shower, honestly, to get rid of the sweat and smell of ash and sulfur. Then he needed to rest. Actually rest, too, not the rushed power naps that had helped him get through this war.

Speaking of… the war was almost over. It had to be now, with Sidious gone. Yes, the Separatist fleet had gotten away with Dooku and Grievous, but without Sidious, they would be without a clear leader. Grievous and Dooku would most likely start clashing as Grievous had never really liked answering to Dooku, and had only done so to avoid displeasing Sidious. That meant that all the Jedi had to do was hunt down the two leaders and it would all be over.

The Jedi could go back to the way of life the war had made them abandon—or, better yet, they would take a look at the Order’s rules and fix them. Those rules may have worked for the galaxy as it stood a thousand years ago, but this was not the same galaxy. Plus, a new look at the rules could mean that the rules on attachments would be changed, which meant after baby Ezra was born, Anakin would still be able to stay in the Order, and it meant that Ezra and Kanan would be allowed to enter the Order, despite their clear father-son bond.

Which led him back to Ezra. Ezra, who was fighting for his life just a few dozen feet away from them under the tools of the surgical droids being overseen by Kix. Ezra, who Obi-Wan had felt die on the landing pad, before Anakin had been able to pull him back.

There was no other way to describe it. Anakin had pulled Ezra back from beyond the brink of death, something that Obi-Wan—the entire Order, actually—had thought was impossible. No one retained consciousness after they passed into the Cosmic Force. But Anakin had somehow reached into the Cosmic Force, found Ezra’s consciousness and pulled it back into the Living Force.

That spoke volumes about how much power Anakin truly had. Not only had he been able to beat Sidious, he had been able to find balance in the middle of the chaos of the battle and had been able to keep himself going above and beyond what anyone else would have defined as possible.

There was no doubt in Obi-Wan’s mind; Anakin was the Chosen One, but more importantly, he was Anakin, his brother, the person who had used his newfound power to bring someone he cared about back from the brink of death, and to stop a threat to the galaxy. Kriff the prophecy; the only things Obi-Wan believed in now were the will of the Force and Anakin.

_______

When the Resolute finally arrived above Coruscant, they all piled out of Sabine and Ahsoka’s room—even Sabine and Ahsoka, the former of whom was in a hoverchair—and stood outside the door to the medbay, waiting for Ezra to be rolled past them to the hanger, where he would be transferred to the best hospital on the capitol planet. Obi-Wan had pressed for him to be taken to the Jedi Temple, but the Council had refused, stating that the healers were already backed up (they were) and that because Ezra wasn’t a member of the Order, he should be treated as a member of the military instead.

Kix came out first, took one look at them, and sighed. “Just… stay back by the wall. We’ve got to move fast.”

Obi-Wan nodded and gestured for everyone to move back, pressing himself against the wall so as to be as far out of the way as possible. Kix ducked back into the medbay and, a few tense seconds later, came out leading a hoverbed. On the bed was a figure covered in so many tubes, wires, and bandages it was barely recognizable. A breathing tube was shoved down his throat, another tube was stuck in his right side to drain fluid buildup from his lungs, and an IV pole hung above the bed, the bags of saline and blood swinging dangerously from side-to-side as they all moved.

Obi-Wan heard multiple gasps, but he was too frozen in shock to make any sort of noise. There was no way that could have been Ezra. He looked too small, too hurt, too  _ broken  _ to be the vivacious young man that Obi-Wan knew. Even after Kadavo hadn’t been as bad as this, and he could tell Ashla and Rex were thinking the same thing when he met their eyes. Kadavo hadn’t even looked as bad; his arm had been pretty messed up and so was his back, but otherwise he didn’t look like he was actively dying. The Ezra that had just been wheeled past them? He looked like he was already dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be able to update next week, because I'm going to be traveling for the holidays--yes, we're all going to be safe, anyone who has or could have been exposed to Covid is going to stay home. We've all managed to avoid getting it so far by being careful, and we're going to continue taking those measures. I HIGHLY recommend that any of you that are traveling do the same. Stay healthy, and I'll see you guys week after next!


	14. Just to Live What Little Life Your Broken Heart Can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I said this was probably going to be twenty-two chapters? Yeah... It's gonna be at least twenty-four. Oh, well. I'm sure no one minds. Definitely not finishing it before December ends, though.

Yoda looked up as a Padawan came running up to him. He’d been sitting in his hoverchair for the last few minutes as he stared out the window, trying to enjoy the quiet while he could before real life butted in. Between the endless Council sessions discussing the war, and the meetings with the Senators delegated to investigating the depths of Palpatine’s corruption, he’d been busy this last week.

“Master Yoda?” The young Padawan—Caleb Dume, he remembered—asked hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to disturb him.

Yoda hummed softly. “Yes, Padawan Dume?”

Caleb shuffled awkwardly from side to side. “Masters Kenobi and Skywalker are back. They reported that they have the hostages, and—and they killed Sidious, Master!” His eyes were bright with undisguised awe, and Yoda hummed again, stroking his chin with one gnarled hand.

Something nagged him, the Force telling him to pay attention, but he couldn’t see what he was supposed to be focusing on, the ever-present cloud of the Dark Side making it impossible to see clearly. So, ignoring the feeling, pushing it aside for later, Yoda gave the young Padawan a small smile as he started moving the hoverchair towards the Council chambers. “My thanks, young Caleb. Their full reports, I will await, with the rest of the Council.”

Caleb nodded, and ran the opposite way. Yoda watched him go with a fond smile. Always impatient, that one. Always wanting to know the answer. He was surprised he hadn’t tried to pester him with questions, about the Force, or about Sidious, or about Kenobi and Skywalker’s unpermitted mission.

Sighing, Yoda made his way to the elevators, taking one up to the Council chambers. Leaving his hoverchair outside the room, he shuffled in. He was unsurprised to find them occupied, the rest of the Council, not including Masters Plo and Kenobi, sitting in their respective chairs and debating furiously about something—the merits of pushing forward in the Outer Rim versus trying to open negotiations now that the Separatist leaders were dead or on the run, he realized after listening for a minute.

“Masters,” Yoda interrupted, raising a hand to quiet the room. “Returned, Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker have. Successful, they were. Shortly, should we be receiving their reports. Perhaps focus on that, we should, hm?”

The Jedi masters settled slightly, though Masters Ti and Mundi still looked somewhat… peeved. Master Ti was promoting Senator Amidala’s recent suggestion that they open lines of diplomatic communication with the Separatists, while Master Mundi was adamant that the Separatists would never negotiate until the leaders—namely Dooku and Grievous—were out of the picture.

Yoda sighed as he settled into his seat. This war was taking its toll on all of them, he mused, before tapping his gimmer stick against the floor. “Now, our response to Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker’s defiance of orders, what should it be?”

_________

High Command was calling from the moment they dropped out of hyperspace, but Rex firmly ignored it. Instead, he commed Appo and Cody and let them know what had happened. Both of them were understandably alarmed about Ezra, but relieved that Sidious was taken care of.

_ “I’ll hold off High Command until you’re ready to give your report,  _ vod _ ,”  _ Cody reassured him as the LAATi they were taking to the surface entered the atmosphere. _ “Until then, stay with our  _ verd’ika _ , alright?” _

Rex nodded before pocketing his holocomm. The LAATi was a few minutes behind the medical shuttle bearing Kix and Ezra, so Rex could just see them landing ahead of and below them, a small group of doctors swarming it the moment the ramp was down.

They vanished into the hospital right as the LAATi landed, leaving only a nurse to guide the group in the LAATi to where they could wait. Rex could only stare at the doors into the emergency section of the hospital with longing, but he knew this wasn’t a battle he could help the kid fight. No, this was all down to the doctors.

Kix hadn’t even given them a proper status report before vanishing into the medical shuttle, so all Rex had to go off of was the glimpse of Ezra he’d seen as he left the medbay on the  _ Resolute. _ And going off of that, the only conclusion Rex felt he could make was that Ezra wasn’t going to make it.

As he followed the rest of the group into the waiting area the nurse had led them to, he wondered idly if the others had all come to the same conclusion. Sinking into a seat across from Kanan Jarrus, he realized, given the man’s facial expression and the hopelessness in his posture, that they probably had.

It was beyond strange that he was here. And not just him, but Ezra’s entire family, including if what Ashla had been able to whisper to him was correct, his older self. And wasn’t that just a trip and a half.

The Lasat, he found himself liking, his gruff and honest demeanor something Rex found comforting. The girl, he wasn’t sure about, but then they hadn’t really had a chance to get to know each other. Kanan, however, Kanan had his respect. The moment Rex had seen him nearly breakdown in the medbay the first time Ezra had coded, he’d felt an immediate kinship with the man. Hopefully, that was something they could build on, whether or not Ezra survived.

Sabine had her hoverchair next to Ahsoka’s seat, letting the Togruta hold her hand tightly as they waited for news. Next to Rex, Kanan looked like he was meditating, but given how he was trembling like a leaf, Rex guessed he was actually focusing on his bond with Ezra.

To no one’s surprise, Anakin was pacing back and forth behind Ahsoka’s chair, occasionally reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. Rex didn’t know if that was supposed to be reassuring or if it was so that Anakin could double check that she was still there. Zeb was cleaning his bo-rifle (and Rex needed to get a closer look, that was a very unique weapon) glaring in the direction they had taken Ezra the whole while.

Obi-Wan had taken off for the Temple, presumably to take care of all the bureaucratic crap the rest of them were too distraught to deal with. He, Barriss, and Master Plo were probably explaining the situation to the Council now, actually. Rex certainly didn’t envy them that task.

So Rex knew it had been just as long as he thought it had been when Obi-Wan made an appearance before Kix or one of the other doctors did. The wait was torturous, and knowing it was indeed as long as it felt like didn’t make it feel any better. He stood, though he didn’t go into parade rest.

“How’d it go?” Anakin asked, his voice soft and weary.

Obi-Wan shrugged, looking tense. Rex realized that being away from Ezra had probably been torture of a different kind than the waiting around for news had been. “They were upset we’d disobeyed orders, but they couldn’t deny that it was overall a victory, so no punishment of any kind will be meted out. What about here, any news?”

“Not a word,” Anakin said softly, and Rex put a hand on his general’s shoulder.

“At this point, I’d say no news is good news. You know they’d come out and tell us if they lost him and couldn’t get him back. As long as they’re still working on him, there’s hope.” He hoped that was the case. Kanan, at least, hadn’t given any indication recently that Ezra had coded again.

Zeb suddenly standing brought everyone’s attention over to the doors into the surgical wing, where Ezra had been taken. Kix was walking out, looking wrecked as he peeled a pair of bloody gloves off and threw them in a nearby trash bin. Everyone stood, except for Sabine, who scooted closer to Kix as he slowly walked over to their group.

“How is he?” Kanan asked, looking almost as wrecked as Kix did.

Kix sighed and beckoned for them to follow him. Somehow he managed to find an empty conference room with a table in the middle of it, one that felt like it was designed solely for the purpose of telling large groups of people bad news. Dropping into a chair at the head of the table, he gestured at the seats and sighed as they all took them.

“It’s not good,” Kix started, and Rex barely bit back a scoff. He’d known that right off the bat. “He’s not actually even out of surgery yet, they just sent me out because my hands were starting to shake.

“The weight of the duracrete fractured most of his ribs, his left side was torn open by rebar, and both his legs were broken. We’ve got bacta and bone knitters working on that, but that's not the worst of the injuries.”

Ashla nodded. “His chest…” She trailed off, looking a shade or two paler than she should’ve been.

Kix nodded. “The rebar punctured his right lung, broke two of his ribs and chipped his shoulder blade. Then the metal itself splintered into his thoracic cavity, tearing through muscle and blood vessels alike. He’s lost in total about five litres of blood, and if we hadn’t been replenishing it constantly, he wouldn't have made it. As it is….”

“He’s crashed five times,” Kanan said in a shaken voice, and Kix nodded again.

“And now we have to worry about further damage to his heart from the electrocution and brain damage from hypoxia.”

Obi-Wan sat forward, looking pensive. “His prognosis?”

“I can’t say,” Kix said, sounding regretful, not that his regret eased anything. “All I can tell you is that if he has any other family, you need to comm them now.”

Rex caught Kanan looking over at Zeb, who sighed, his ears drooping to the sides of his skull. “I'll be right back,” he promised before marching out of the room.

_______

Under the console wasn’t one of Hera’s favorite places on the  _ Ghost,  _ although you’d never know it from the time she spent under there. It was just that the steering was in constant need of tuning, and without Chopper, she was having to do all the maintenance herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Rex or Kallus, it was just, well. Nobody touched the  _ Ghost  _ but her and her droid.

The comm dinging broke her concentration, and she sat up, checking the frequency. It was Zeb. She sighed, and smiled. He’d missed the last couple of check-ins, but Chopper had sent her text messages reassuring her that everything was fine. Activating the comm, she rolled back under the console and waited for Zeb to speak first.

_ “Spectre Four to  _ Ghost,” came his familiar, gruff voice, and Hera smiled as she tightened one last bolt. 

_ “Ghost _ here. What’s going on?'' The question was meant to be lighthearted but Zeb’s reply was anything but.

_ “Have you seen the news?” _

Frowning, she pushed herself out from under the console. “No, we’ve been busy. Gimme a sec…” She flipped on the Galactic News Broadcast and was taken aback to see the words ‘Palpatine Dead—Separatist Conspiracy Exposed!’ displayed as the headline.”Oh my stars. What—How did this happen?”

Zeb didn’t seem inclined to answer. _ “Details later. You need to get to Coruscant now.” _

Hera sighed. As much as she missed Jacen, she had to see the alliance between Satine and Bo-Katan’s Nite-Owls through. “Zeb, we can’t just up and leave, we have responsibilities here,” she explained patiently, then added, “and from the sound of it, everything’s already been taken care of—”

_ “Blast it, Hera, you need to get here now if you ever want to see Ezra alive again!” _

Hera wasn’t aware of sitting down; all she was aware of was that suddenly her legs couldn’t support her weight and then suddenly she was in the pilot’s seat. “What?” she managed dumbly, because there was nothing else she could say to that. Ezra wasn’t here. This had been an isolated event, no one but their crew had been pulled back in time, so why was Zeb saying that Ezra was here?

Then the realization of what he’d just said hit her, and she tightened her grip on the hydrospanner in her hand. No, no, Ezra couldn’t be dying. Not so soon after she found out he was here, that he was alive.

Apparently the universe didn’t seem to care.

_ “He’s… it’s bad, Hera, it’s really bad. The docs don’t give him long, and … you need to get here, fast.” _

Hera nodded, quickly using the ship’s comms to recall her two crewmates. “What happened?” She managed as she did so.

Zeb sighed heavily.  _ “He was protecting Sabine—yes, she’s here, too,”  _ he added at her surprised gasp, _ “and she’s a bit banged up, but otherwise she’s fine—but there was a bomb and she couldn’t diffuse it in time.” _

“Oh my stars,” she said softly as she processed what he’d said. “Okay, we’re on our way.” With that she hung up, and entered a different frequency, this time using the ship’s comm system. The comm rang for a second before Duchess Satine answered, looking as resplendent as ever. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something, Your Grace,” she said.

Satine waved her off. _ “Oh, no need to apologize. I could use a break from the endless arguing.” _

Hera forced a small smile as she heard Rex and Kallus enter the ship and climb up into the cockpit behind her. “Unfortunately, my crew and I have to leave. I just got word from Coruscant, my son is in critical condition.”

Behind her, Rex and Kallus both inhaled sharply, coming to the wrong but still terrifying conclusion. Oh, well, she’d correct them later.

Satine put a hand over her mouth.  _ “Oh, dear… Of course you must go. If you need anything, let me know.” _

“Of course,” Hera said with a nod, preparing to cut the call. “Thank you, Your Grace.” With that, she hung up.

Rex swung himself into the copilot’s seat as Kallus settled in the seat behind her. “What happened?” The clone asked. “What’s wrong with Jacen?”

“Not Jacen,” Hera corrected as she started the engines, “it’s Ezra.”

Kallus sat up straight in his chair, sounding alarmed as he demanded, “What? Ezra?”

Nodding, Hera took off. “He and Sabine are both on Coruscant, but he’s in bad shape.”

“How bad?” Rex asked, and Hera shook her head.

“Zeb wouldn’t say, he just told me that if we don’t get there soon, we might not ever see Ezra alive again.”

_______

Zeb arrived back at the hospital with a confused Chopper in tow. Kanan had decided that Hera would be next to know he was alive, and Zeb had (begrudgingly) complied with his request, keeping the astromech in the dark and giving Kanan a heads up before they got there, so while Kanan watched from behind a closed door, Sabine moved forward to catch the astromech’s attention.

She laughed as Chopper immediately stopped short in surprise, beeped, then raced forward, ramming into her hoverchair while squealing in excitement at seeing his third favorite meatbag.

“Third favorite?” Sabine asked, wiping a tear off of her face. Damn emotions. Chopper beeped and whistled, informing her that Jacen had taken her former spot at second. With a wet laugh, Sabine threw her arms around the astromech, hugging him as tight as she could from the chair.

Chopper patted her arm with a manipulator, and Sabine smiled before sitting back in her seat. As she did, Chopper chirped, asking how she’d gotten here, and Sabine sighed and shrugged. “Same way you guys did, I guess. None of us really has a clue.”

Chopper eyed her suspiciously for a second before asking who ‘us’ was, and Sabine felt the smile slip off her face. “Chopper… Ezra’s here too.” Immediately, the droid whistled, looking around like he was expecting Ezra to jump out from behind one of the potted plants. “Woah, woah, Chop, he’s not out here. He’s… he’s the reason we’re at a hospital.”

Sadly, Chopper bleeped out a question, and Sabine nodded. “Yeah, and it’s pretty bad. Zeb already called Hera, so she’s on her way. We’ll update you when she gets here.”

Chopper nodded as best he could, then spotted Ashla and squealed in surprise. Zipping over to her, he swatted her leg with one manipulator, demanding that she  _ never scare them like that again, do you have any idea how badly you scarred S6,  _ and  _ how are you alive? _

Ashla laughed, and petted Chopper’s head gently. “I’m sorry for letting you think I was dead, Chopper. And it’s Ashla, no need for codenames,” she winked subtly at Chopper who seemed to catch her drift.

“Who’s S6?” Anakin asked, and Chopper turned to him, squealed and hid behind Ashla’s legs.

Sabine just smiled. “Spectre Six. Ezra.”

“Oh,” Anakin replied, then crouched. “Hey, little guy. I’m not going to hurt you.”

That seemed to snap Chopper out of his shock, and he pushed himself in front of Ashla protectively. Sabine bit back a groan and face palmed as Chopper rattled off a list of things he would do if Anakin came close to his family, and Ashla laughed.

“Chopper, it’s okay, he’s not that person. He’s not,” she insisted, “going to hurt any of us.”

Anakin held his hands up as Chopper pulled out his electroprod for good measure, saying, “Woah, easy buddy, I’m not… whoever you think I am.”

Sabine let out a laugh this time, because, actually, he kind of was. Even Master Kenobi looked a bit amused. Idly, she wondered if he knew. They'd never had an opportunity to ask him without Anakin in the room, and that would kind of be an awkward conversation if he didn’t.

“How long till Hera and the others get here?” Sabine asked Zeb, now that Chopper was slowly lowering his electroprod.

“Few hours,” Zeb replied, looking down at her kindly. “You should get some rest, kit. You’ve had a rough few days.”

Sabine shook her head. “Ezra’s not actually out of surgery yet, I’ll rest when he’s moved to Intensive Care. Not before. I—I need to know he’s going to make it.”

Zeb set a hand on her shoulder. “He’ll make it. Now go, sleep. The hospital’s got a room ready for you; I think they know you’re not leaving till Ezra does.”

Sabine nodded; Anakin and Obi-Wan had sent Rex and Ahsoka there an hour ago. Rex was just there to make sure she actually rested, but Ahsoka had been dead on her feet. And, if Sabine was honest with herself, she felt much the same.

So with one last tired smile at Zeb, she called over to Chopper, “Hey, want to go meet someone fun?” Chopper trilled an answer, and she grinned. Force, she’d missed the ornery droid, and she knew Ahsoka would love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had that conversation between Hera and Zeb in my head for a year and a half and now I finally get to post it! Lemme know what you guys think!


	15. How Our Bodies, Born to Heal, Become So Prone to Die?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For simplicity's sake, I'm going to refer to the younger Rex as Captain Rex, and the older Rex as just Rex. This will hold true throughout the rest of this work. Hope that clears up any confusion!

The  _ Ghost  _ dropped out of hyperspace a few tense hours later. The city-planet was nearly blockaded by a number of Venator-class Star Destroyers, though Hera wasn’t really surprised by the increased security. After finding out that their leader was actually working with the enemy, of course they’d be wary of an attack on home soil. She just wished she knew if all the Republic’s planets were being so thoroughly protected. She doubted it.

Rex inhaled softly as they came up under the shadow of a particular Star Destroyer, and she glanced back at him to see him staring teary-eyed at the underbelly of the larger ship. “Hello, old friend,” he whispered, and she realized belatedly that this must be the  _ Resolute _ .

Smiling softly, she reached over and rested a hand on his arm. He glanced over at her and she offered him a sympathetic smile. He gave her a nod in return, and she let her hand fall away. He’d be okay.

The console lit up as the comm dinged, and she sighed as she answered it. It had to be customs, clearing every ship that tried to land on the planet. It would disappear soon, relaxed to planetside clearance only, but in the meantime, it reminded Hera painfully of every Imperial occupied planet they’d ever visited.

“State your name and transmit your ship’s registration codes,” a brisk voice with a Core Worlds accent demanded, and Hera straightened.

“This is Hera… Jarrus,” she said, remembering that she couldn’t use Syndulla, ”piloting the  _ Ghost, _ transmitting codes now.”

A brief second later and the same voice responded, “Of course. There’s a landing bay in the Admin district’s spaceport reserved for you. A guide will take you to the hospital. And please… pass the 501st’s well-wishes to Ezra. He has been… dearly missed.”

Hera raised an eyebrow, sharing a look with Rex, who looked just as surprised. “Thank you, and I will.” With that, she hung up, turning to face Rex proper. “You know him?”

Rex nodded. “Admiral Yularen. That’s not good.”

“What’s not good?” she asked, her heart clenching in her chest.

“Yularen’s worried,” Rex answered, “And I know the man. He’s never worried unless it’s really bad. Too used to General Skywalker’s antics to be fazed by anything less.”

Behind them, Kallus spoke up. “He’s right.” Hera turned to him, surprised, and he spread his hands. “Yularen is a very militant man. He doesn’t do sentiment.”

Hera turned back to the pilot’s yolk, clenching her jaw as cold fear settled in her gut. “Then it’s got to be really, really bad.”

The Admin district was easy enough to find; the Temple and Senate Buildings both stuck out of the surrounding architecture like a beacon. The spaceport was even easier to find, a sprawling complex of bays interconnected by labyrinthine hallways.

She found the bay reserved for the  _ Ghost  _ easily enough. There was a familiar shuttle already waiting there, and a figure in white and blue stepping out to greet them as the landing gear was extended.

Beside her, Rex huffed a laugh. “They would send him,” he muttered, and Hera looked back and forth between the figure on the ground and the clone in front of her before realizing, oh. That’s the same helmet.

“I’d swear he’s taller than you,” Kallus commented, and Rex rolled his eyes.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if he was,” he stood as he spoke, heading for the ladder. “Spinal damage and all that from being thrown about like a ragdoll by my Jedi.”

Hera smiled as she followed him, but it was tense, and small. As familiar as the banter was, it wasn’t enough to distract her from the reason they were here, and behind the tight eyes and forced smiles, she knew the others were just as aware of the reason as she was.

Kallus and Rex waited for her to take the lead as they left the Ghost, bowing to her seniority even though she no longer outranked either of them. The Captain Rex who was waiting for them snapped to attention the moment he saw them, saluting before falling into parade rest.

“Captain Jarrus, I would presume,” He said, and Hera shivered. It was eerie, hearing that same voice, just twenty (or forty, if you went by the advanced aging) years younger.

Still, she held out a hand for him to shake. “I am. Call me Hera.”

The clone pulled off his helmet before shaking her hand, and wow. Rex had been blond? That was news. “It’s an honor to meet you. Ezra’s told us all a lot of good things.” Turning his attention to Kallus, he raised an eyebrow. “You, I have no idea.” Then he turned to Rex and smirked. “You, well, I’d know that face anywhere.”

“Eh, there’s only a few million like it,” the older Rex said jokingly, and he threw his younger self a salute. “Captain.”

“Captain,” the younger responded as he saluted right back, then he sobered. “I should tell you now, General Skywalker isn’t in the know. Myself, Kix, Ahsoka, General Kenobi and Cody all do know about the time-travel, but as far as he and everyone else know, you were fighting a criminal empire out in the Outer Rim when you got separated, and you’re only just now finding out that the others survived.”

Hera nodded, not quite sure who Kix was. Cody was a name she’d heard before, but Kix was new. Since Rex didn’t seem surprised or alarmed, though, she decided that could wait. “We’ll brief you at the hospital,” Captain Rex was saying. “Your droid is waiting there.”

Hera frowned as she followed Rex onto the Phantom II. “What about Jacen, who’s watching him?”

“Ahsoka and Ashla are both doting on him right now,” the captain said as they took off. “Kid’s going to be confused why he has two identical aunts later in life.”

“Ashla?” Kallus asked. “We don’t know anyone named Ashla.”

“Yes, we do,” Rex looked like he’d seen a ghost. “That’s a pseudonym Ahsoka went by, after Order Sixty-Six. Is she—Did she—?”

Hera felt hope bloom in her chest. If the Force had brought back one Jedi with this impossible time-traveling stunt, maybe, just maybe…

Captain Rex nodded, then promptly crushed that hope. “She apparently survived whatever or whoever it was that you all thought had killed her. Ezra must have known about it, he didn’t seem surprised that she was alive, just that she was here. The others—Sabine, Zeb, and Chopper—they all thought she was dead.”

Hera deflated. It had been an impossible hope anyway. Kanan was dead, and she’d have to live with that.

They arrived at the hospital in record time, Rex piloting almost as efficiently as Hera did. Hera waited until Rex stood and exited the  _ Phantom II  _ before following him onto the landing platform and into the hospital. From there, he led them up to a private room, with a couple of beds and several chairs scattered around the perimeter.

Inside the room were Chopper and Sabine Wren, as well as two figures she recognized from Kanan’s holocron and old news reports: Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Their presence, especially Skywalker’s, grated her nerves, but knowing that Master Kenobi was in the know told her that the two of them were probably a lot closer to her family than she would have liked.

“Hera!” Sabine called from a hoverchair, looking excited as she pushed her chair forward. “Thank the Force.”

Hera let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, rushing past Captain Rex to pull Sabine into a hug as best she could, what with Sabine forced to sit because of the brace on her leg. “Oh, Sabine, sweetheart, we missed you so much. I missed you.”

“Missed you too, _Buir,”_ Sabine mumbled, her face pressed into Hera’s stomach. Hera blinked back tears as she stroked Sabine’s hair. Force, she’d missed Sabine so much.

After a minute or two, she pulled away, and Sabine chuckled as she wiped away tears. Glancing behind Hera, she grinned at Hera’s companions. “Hey, Kallus, hey, R-Tristan,” she quickly caught herself before she could accidentally blurt Rex’s name in front of General Skywalker, her eyes going wide at the near slip.

Rex didn’t seem to mind the new name, though. “Good to see you too, kid,” he said with a soft smile, then sobered. “How is he?”

Sabine’s smile fell, and she sat back in her chair. “It’s not good.”

Behind them, Captain Rex spoke up from the doorway. “Last I heard, they were moving him to the ICU, but that was before I went to get you.”

“They’ve taken him back into the surgical wing,” Master Kenobi spoke up for the first time, his rich voice soothing to Hera’s ear cones, even if the news he gave was anything but. “They missed some bone fragments.”

“Bone fragments—what happened? Zeb said something about a bomb?” Hera looked back and forth between Kenobi, Skywalker, Sabine, and Captain Rex, hoping one of them would answer her questions.

Sabine nodded. “It was my fault. I was too slow, I didn’t deactivate it in time, I should have done better—”

“Hey,” Skywalker cut in, interrupting her before she could continue blaming herself. ”It happened, it’s over. Now we just have to trust the doctors, and the Force.” He turned to Hera, and explained, “Sabine says he redirected the blast upward instead of out, but that brought the ceiling down on them.”

Sabine gestured to her leg as she added, “My leg was broken, and my ribs were cracked, and I had a concussion, but otherwise I was fine. Ezra….”

“A piece of rebar went through his chest, punctured his lung and broke a couple ribs,” Zeb said as he lumbered into the room. “Hey, Hera, you two.” He turned to Kenobi, Skywalker, and Sabine and said in a gruff, almost choked voice, “He crashed again.”

“Stang,” Skywalker swore, and Sabine paled.

“Kriffing hell, that makes it, what, eight times?”

“Nine,” Zeb corrected.

Rex stepped forward, looking mildly ill. “He’s crashed nine times?”

Skywalker huffed softly. ”Not counting the four times when Sidious had him.”

“When Sidious—” Hera cut herself off and shook her head. “Okay, slow down and start from the beginning. How and why did Sidious have him?”

Sabine sighed and exchanged a look with the other three, then gestured at the nearest group of chairs. “You’d better sit down, Hera. It’s a long story.”

_______

About an hour and a half later, a clone medic who introduced himself as Kix led Hera and Sabine down a hall, up through a lift, then down a couple more halls before stopping outside a door. The glass walls and door were opaque, for the moment, although Hera assumed they could be turned transparent so the nurses at the station just outside could keep an eye on him.

“I’m going to warn you now, it’s not pretty. We put him in bacta because of the electrocution, but the blood loss and constant resuscitation have put a strain on his heart. Every once in a while he’ll go into cardiac arrhythmia or arrest, and we have to fish him out to resuscitate him. Do you have any questions for me before you see him?”

Hera nodded. “Will he be conscious?”

Kix sighed heavily and lowered the ‘pad he’d been referencing up to that point. “No. He’s in a medically induced coma, and even if he wasn’t, he’d be comatose anyway. The result of the extended period of time without oxygen has damaged a lot of the tissue in his body, including his brain. He needs the time to recover, and even when he does wake up, we’ll need to run cognitive tests on him to make sure he hasn’t suffered brain damage.”

“What’re the chances that he has?” Sabine asked fearfully, glancing at the closed door anxiously.

“Extremely high,” Kix answered bluntly. “Honestly, if it weren’t for the Force, and the small amounts of healing the Jedi have been able to do, he wouldn’t have made it this far.”

Hera took a steadying breath before nodding to show she understood. With a sigh, Kix slid the door open and ushered them in, closing it behind them.

She had hoped, before they’d first time traveled and before she had resigned herself to a lifetime without either of her oldest kids, that when she saw Ezra again, he’d be exactly how she last saw him: still so young and full of life. Seeing him now, she realized that while the first part was true, the second part wasn’t.

Her son was lying in a horizontal bacta tank, the easier for pulling him out of it, she realized, looking pale as death and just as still. Bandages were wrapped around his bare torso, covering his chest and left side. With a gasp of shock, Hera saw that his left arm had been severed below the elbow, leaving just an empty space where his hand should have been. Countless tubes were draped over his body, providing medication and nutrition while monitors on the tank were taking every bit of data the doctors could possibly need about his condition.

Carefully, quietly, Hera moved forward, taking a single step before abandoning all caution and rushing around the tank to Ezra’s side. Pressing her hand against the tank next to his hand, she watched as his hair drifted lazily around his face, the only movement other than the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He’d grown it out again, so that it was nearly brushing his shoulders. It suited him, somehow, making him seem both younger and older.

Vaguely, she saw Sabine move closer to the tank as well, a hand over her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes, but all she was focused on, all she was aware of, was the sound of the machine that was breathing for Ezra. She should have expected that he couldn’t do it on his own, but knowing intellectually that her son couldn’t do one of the most basic things to keep himself alive, and seeing the proof were two very different things.

Tears pricked her eyes as she pressed her hand against the plexiglass harder, willing him to wake up with every fiber of her being. “Oh, Ezra…”

“Ez,” Sabine said, choking, her voice breaking on the one syllable. “Oh, stars, Ez…”

Tearing her eyes off of Ezra’s face, Hera beckoned Sabine closer, stepping back and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She kept one hand on the glass, though, Sabine copying her as they both tried to touch him, to reassure themselves he was still here, despite the glass in the way.

“He’s going to be okay,” Hera said, trying to come off reassuring, but she knew it only sounded like a prayer. That’s all it was, really: a prayer that she wouldn’t find him only to lose him again, this time forever. Whatever gods were out there, whatever forces were doing this, they couldn’t be so cruel as to take him away from his family.

Sabine let go of the glass and buried her face in her hands, whispering, “Force, Ezra, I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve—I should have been faster, I’m so sorry. Just don’t go, please don’t go.”

Hera came around so that she could hold Sabine tighter, stroking the young woman’s hair in a gesture she’d practiced so many times in the last few years. It had always been how she comforted Ezra, and eventually, Sabine. But this time, this time she knew it wasn’t going to be enough to help her grieving daughter.

“It wasn’t your fault, Sabine. You know he would never blame you.”

Sabine looked up at her, her tear stained face desperate. “It was my fault. I was supposed to disarm the bomb, and I didn’t—I was too slow, if I had just—”

“If, nothing. We can’t do anything about ifs,” Hera said gently. “All we can do know is be here for him. It’s going to be a long road to recovery.” If he recovered. That was still up in the air, and as much as Hera wanted to stay optimistic, every mechanized breathing sound reminded her that it was highly unlikely. _ Stay with us, _ she thought as she turned back to Ezra,  _ please. We can’t lose you, not so soon after we found you again. _

______

Kanan watched with his arms crossed through the one-way mirror in the room next door. Supposedly it was for closer patient observation while maintaining the illusion of privacy, but honestly it felt more like spying. If that was what it took to keep his presence hidden from Hera for the time being, though, he’d stay behind the glass whenever she, Kallus, Rex, or Chopper were in Ezra’s room.

He knew it was cruel to keep Hera in the dark longer, but right now, Ezra was the priority. Hera and the others needed to be focusing on him, not Kanan. Kanan could wait until they knew whether or not Ezra was going to pull through. If he did, then Kanan would figure out how to tell Hera then, and if he didn’t… Well, hopefully the news would be enough to give Hera and the others some comfort.

He sighed and rubbed his face as he watched Sabine break down and start crying into Hera’s lap. He wanted so badly to be in there with them, but he couldn't. Not yet, not while Ezra was still on the precipice of death.

Kix came in and stood next to him, watching the two women as they fussed over Ezra’s inert body. “How are they?” Kanan asked.

Kix took a moment to answer. “Hard to say. Sabine’s not holding up well, and I think Hera’s just putting on a brave face, but I’ve never really met either of them before, not even Sabine, so it’s hard for me to judge.”

Kanan sighed. “I should be in there.”

“Why aren’t you?”

Question of the day. Why couldn’t he face Hera now, rather than when Ezra had recovered? “Guilt,” he answered after a moment. “I should have been able to protect him, and I didn’t. And now…”

Kix snorted. “I swear, you and the generals are like carbon copies of each other. You should sit down with them sometime, have an I-blame-myself-for-everything-that-goes-wrong discussion. Ezra’s the same way.”

Kanan nodded, thinking back to the time right after Malachor, when Ezra had been so wrapped up in his own guilt and grief he’d started using the Sith holocron. “Trust me, I know. I think he got it from Skywalker.”

“I’d agree with you,” Kix muttered, “but I’m not sure Ezra would like that. He’s… touchy about being compared to General Skywalker. He’s been getting better about it, but still, I’d hesitate before saying that to his face.”

Kanan glanced over at Kix, doing his best to read his expression. “You know about Vader?” He asked, and Kix nodded.

“He and Ashla did their best to make sure we knew everything that was pertinent. The fact that General Skywalker was supposed to Fall was right up there at the top of the list.” Kix paused, then huffed. “Well, they told us after Kadavo. Ezra was pretty tight-lipped about everything up until that point.”

Grimacing, Kanan turned back to the mirror, watching but not really listening as Hera and Sabine had a murmured conversation. “He shuts down when he gets upset. Thinking he was alone again… that would upset him.”

Kix sighed. “He needs to know that he was never alone. There were always people who would have wanted to help.”

“Speaking of help,” Kanan said, thinking back to what had happened on Mustafar, “I think you might need some. Or, if not help, then training, at the very least.”

Stiffening, Kix kept his eyes firmly on the window into the next room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kanan scoffed, uncrossing his arms. “I’ve raised two teenagers, and live with a big man-child. I know a lie when I hear one. You used the Force.” When Kix still didn’t say anything, Kanan added, “I didn’t know clones could be Force-sensitive.”

“We’re living beings, too,” Kix said, a bit of a bite to his tone. “And I thought the Force flowed through all living beings.”

“It does,” Kanan agreed. “It’s just that I’ve served with many, many clones and I’ve never met one who was Force-sensitive. Or at least, if I did, they hid it well.”

Kix sighed and pulled out his datapad, checking something on Ezra’s charts as he replied, “Well, now you’ve met two.”

Kanan nodded, thinking back to when he’d seen Fives stop a block in midair before it could hit him. “It’s incredible—”

An alarm started screaming from the next room as Ezra suddenly lurched, jerking and flailing about. The monitors were wailing as his blood-oxygen levels plummeted and his heart rate became erratic.

Kanan lurched forward, pressing his hands against the glass as Kix swore and raced out the door, entering the room just behind a team of doctors to usher Hera and Sabine out. Sabine was screaming, demanding to know what was happening, while Hera was pale, looking like she was about to faint as Ezra gurgled and choked on the bacta that managed to get into his mouth.

The team of doctors surrounded Ezra quickly, obstructing Kanan’s view of him as they started draining the bacta so they could pull him out, and he banged on the glass in frustration, wanting so desperately to be in there with them but knowing he couldn’t do anything.

Well, there was something he could do, but he could do it from here. Opening his side of the bond as wide as it would go, he dove into Ezra’s mind, clinging tightly to his signature as he fought to clear up some of the muddiness that clouded his usually bright signature.

The monitors wailed louder as Kanan lost his grip on Ezra’s mind, and Kanan yelled, “No, nonono!” as the EKG went nuts, the rhythm lost in the throws of the seizure. He was dying again, and just like before, there was nothing he could do about it.

Ezra stopped moving—Kanan could just barely see him between the doctors in scrubs—and he heard one of the doctors yell, “Clear!” before Ezra lurched. The monitor was still wailing, and one of the nurses clambered on top of Ezra’s bed to start compressions. After one round, they shocked him again, and this time the wailing mercifully stopped.

The doctors were still hovering around Ezra, though, and Kanan clenched his fists as one of them stepped to the side enough that he could see the blood splattered inside and around the breathing tube. Ezra’s breathing was still shallow—too shallow, he was slowly turning blue again—and with all the blood, Kanan knew something had torn or punctured again.

The doctors raised the railings of the bed they’d placed him on and started wheeling him out of the room, and Kanan started toward the door before remembering that Hera was out there. A part of him wanted to say kark it and go out anyway, but then he remembered how close Hera had come to passing out from shock when Ezra’s seizure started and decided, no, it’d be better to wait. So instead he watched helplessly as they whisked his kid away to an operating room, where they could fix whatever had been damaged by their resuscitation efforts.

Kix came back in a few minutes later, mouth open to say something, but then he looked at Kanan’s face and shut it. Kanan appreciated it. He wasn’t in the mood to be told exactly how much closer to dying Ezra was. He already knew.


	16. Till the Glass or My Fever Breaks

Obi-Wan sighed as he ignored the beeping of his commlink. The Council again, more than likely. He hadn’t given them more than a cursory explanation of events before leaving for the hospital. It had been agony, not knowing how Ezra was doing—although knowing wasn’t all that much better.

After Ezra’s latest seizure, he had been rushed into surgery to repair his lung— _ again. _ Apparently the compressions had rebroken one of the still-mending ribs and had opened the puncture wound in his lung— **_again._ ** And he’d torn his stitches.

Obi-Wan was getting sick and tired of the constant up and down. Ezra would be doing fine for minutes or even hours, and then suddenly he wasn’t and Obi-Wan would only know because Ashla, who was sticking close to him or Ahsoka to avoid Anakin, would tense up and make a noise of pain.

He had flatlined again in surgery, while Ashla, Ahsoka, Zeb, and he sat around in the waiting room. Anakin had Captain Rex with him, filling out official after-action reports, while Kallus and the other Rex were watching Kanan and Hera’s youngest. Those gathered in the waiting room had all been watching Ashla carefully, with an intensity that would have made anyone else squirm.

Ashla had taken it all with grace and a level of empathy that made Obi-Wan proud. Idly, he wondered if Ahsoka would take after her older self, or if she would become someone else entirely. Probably—hopefully—the latter. As incredible as Ashla was, the only way Ahsoka would turn out exactly like her would be if she went through the same traumas, and Obi-Wan would never wish that upon anyone.

Hera and Sabine had joined them after a while, and while they didn’t say anything, Obi-wan had been able to tell they were shaken. There was no way they wouldn’t be, not after witnessing something like that. Force only knew Obi-Wan had been shaken after Ezra’s seizure on Mustafar.

It was strange for Obi-Wan to think that just over a week ago, he and Ezra had been facing down Maul with Ventress. Going from that to this—the war nearly over with Dooku and Grievous in the wind, the Chancellor a Sith Lord and dead, Ezra soon to follow—was beyond jarring. He nearly had whiplash from how quickly things had changed.

His commlink chimed again, and Obi-Wan sighed, checking the frequency this time to make sure it wasn’t Cody trying to get a hold of him. To his surprise, though, he didn’t recognize the frequency. Standing, he nodded to the others, and headed outside, walking some way away from the entrance before answering.

“Kenobi here.”

To his surprise, it was Ventress who answered.  _ “Obi-Wan! How nice of you to actually answer your comm.” _

“How did you get my frequency?” Obi-Wan asked tiredly, too worn out to be amused by Ventress’s sarcasm.

_ “Our mutual friend Ezra gave Jaesa his and your frequencies before we parted ways on Raydonia. I thought it about time to check in, especially if the rumor mill is to be trusted.” _

Obi-Wan sighed and found a nearby bench to sit on. “Sidious is dead, if that’s what you mean. I watched it happen myself.” He hoped that was true. There was something nagging at the edge of his mind, making him wonder if that really was the case.

_ “Not that he didn’t deserve it, but you could have told me you were going up against him. I would have loved to have seen the look on his face.” _

“I didn’t have your frequency,” Obi-Wan reminded her, and the sound of a light scoff rang through the comm.

_ “Ezra does.” _

Glancing back toward the hospital entrance, Obi-Wan worried that he’d miss Kix’s after-surgery report. He’d give it to Kanan first, he knew, then the rest, but with no clue as to when Ezra would be out of surgery, he had no clue when he had to go back inside to catch the report.

_ “Obi-Wan?” _ Ventress’s voice snapped him out of his daze, and he sighed heavily.

“Ezra was captured by Sidious, and during the ensuing battle, he was injured.”

Ventress paused for a solid minute, then asked in a quieter tone of voice,  _ “How badly?” _

Realizing that she’d been moving to a place where Jaesa couldn’t hear, he responded, “Badly. He’s in surgery again—his third in two days—and I suspect that even if he pulls through, he’ll spend the next while in the hospital.”

Ventress didn’t hiss or otherwise show she was surprised by his answer, but Obi-Wan knew she was quietly horrified. Ezra had that ability to make everyone like him, which Obi-Wan was quietly awed by. He’d managed to get Hondo and Ventress both, two of the people who’d been most resistant to Obi-Wan’s charms, to lower their guards and get attached to him.

_ “Well,”  _ Ventress said after a minute,  _ “as much as I wish this was a social call, I’m afraid I do need something, Obi-Wan, dear.” _

“Well, you need only to ask, darling,” Obi-Wan snarked back, his tired tone at odds with the playful words, making him sound about as torn as he felt. On the one hand, he felt like he needed to be here, to be by Ezra’s side as he recovered, but on the other he knew the Republic and the war needed him more.

Ventress’s next words quickly resolved that conflict. _ “I’ve found Dooku.” _

Obi-Wan sat up straight, immediately reaching for his holocomm so he could call the Jedi Council after this call was over. “Where?”

_ “Utapau,”  _ Ventress answered smugly.  _ “I managed to track him here from Serenno, but you’ll want to move quickly. I’ll stall him till you get here if he looks like he’s about to move, but I can’t take him on my own.” _

Obi-Wan nodded. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

_______

Kix stepped out of the operating room and sighed, peeling off his gloves and walking slowly over to the faucets, where he quickly began scrubbing the blood off his hands. The surgery had gone well, the stitches were repaired, and Ezra was back in the ICU, where he’d be staying until they brought him out of the coma.

Sighing, he braced himself against the sink, closing his eyes for a minute, trying to regain his composure. He wasn’t a surgeon; he wasn’t supposed to be doing this. Tending to patients after surgery, maybe, but actually going in and repairing the torn stitches, popping the broken bones back into place? That wasn’t supposed to be his job. He felt like he’d never get Ezra’s blood off his hands.

After a minute, he sighed again and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked wrecked—but then, he’d gotten maybe eight hours of sleep in the last three days, since they’d left for Mustafar. His eyes were almost sunken, and the bags under his eyes were darker than he’d ever seen Skywalker’s. Add in the days’ worth of stubble he’d accidentally grown, and he looked about thirty years older than he actually was.

He felt like it, too. Ezra had been his responsibility, one of his commanders and he’d let him down. He wasn’t able to save him. Force only knew whether or not Ezra would make it out of this one. Any other situation, Kix would put his money on Ezra, but with this… after helping the surgeons clamp blood vessels and sew torn flesh together, he wasn’t so sure.

Grimacing at the memory, he grabbed a towel and dried his hands. Nothing left for him to do to stall for time. He had to go and give his report.

Kanan was waiting for him in the hall outside the operating room. He stood up from the uncomfortable-looking plastoid chair and glanced down the hallway, like he was expecting Ezra to be wheeled past him when he knew that wasn’t the case. “How’d it go?”

Kix sighed. “Could have gone worse. He didn’t have another seizure, and only flatlined once while he was under. But Kanan, that’s three surgeries in as many days; his body can’t take much more of this. Sooner or later it’s going to give out on him. You need to prepare yourself for that eventuality.”

Kanan was shaking his head before Kix had even finished. “No, he’ll pull through. He always does.”

“Does he always get a metal pole shoved into his body?” Kix snapped, then sighed and dragged a hand over his face. “Sorry, it’s just…”

Nodding, Kanan shifted uncomfortably. “It’s your third surgery in as many days, too. I get it.” Echoing Kix’s sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment, then looked up and met Kix’s eyes. “How bad.”

Understanding what Kanan was asking, Kix clenched his jaw before saying, “I’d give him less than ten percent at this point. It was closer to fifteen before his seizure.”

Kanan closed his eyes and swore. Kix nodded in agreement, then glanced down the hall toward the waiting room, where the others would have gathered. The Jedi saw where he was looking, and waved him on. “Go ahead, I know they want an update.”

Kix nodded. “I’ll make sure you have a few minutes with him. Buzz me when you’re done, and I’ll send Zeb and Chopper in. They haven’t had a chance to see him.”

Kanan made a noise of agreement, and started to head down the hall, only to pause and turn back to him. “Hey, Kix? Thanks. I know you’re a medic, not a surgeon, and you didn’t have to do this.”

“No offense, but I kind of did. If I wasn’t the attending physician, they’d request Ezra’s medical records.” Kix sent Kanan a pointed look. “All the medical records.”

Including the DNA test Kix had run so many months ago. Kanan seemed to get the message and grimaced at the thought before heading off toward the ICU. Kix sighed and jogged down the corridor toward the waiting room, slowing to a walk as he got closer so he wouldn’t alarm them.

Hera, Sabine, Chopper, Zeb, Ashla and Ahsoka all looked up as one as he entered, and Ahsoka quickly scrambled out of her seat so he could take it. He nodded to her gratefully, sinking into it with a groan.

“Force, surgeries are the worst,” he mumbled, offering them all a half-smile. “He’s fine, for the moment. They’re just getting him settled in his room and running a few tests to make sure there aren't any complications, they’ll comm me when you can go in.”

Hera and Sabine nodded, but Zeb looked uncomfortable. “Are you sure you want us to go in? Your turn got interrupted—”

“And there wasn’t much more we could say,” Sabine cut him off. “It’s okay. Just… be sure he’s okay?”

Zeb nodded, but Kix wasn’t sure if Sabine meant Ezra or Kanan. Ezra’s injury had been hard on the Jedi Master, obviously, but the forced separation so as to not give away the truth to Hera and the others had to be wearing on him, too. Sighing internally, he made to haul himself to his feet, only to be stopped by Ashla.

“Kix, you look awful. You should rest.”

Kix shook his head. “Can’t. I’ve got to get Ezra’s charts updated, and then I have to check on him before we let visitors in his room—” alright, that last part was a lie, that was just code for, I’ve got to make sure Kanan’s not in there when Chopper comes in, but still “—there’s just too much to do and I—”

“Need to rest,” Hera said imperiously. “You look like you’re about to fall over. Stars, you’re just as bad as…” She trailed off, very suddenly looking sad. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re as bad as Kanan,” Sabine filled in, and when Hera turned to glare at her, she shrugged. “He knows who he is. Was.”

Nodding, Kix tried to force himself to his feet, only for Ahsoka to come over and sit on his lap before he could. “What are you doing,” he asked, even though it was obvious.

“Keeping you from being stupid. Lay down, and get some rest.” She jerked her head in Zeb’s direction. “I’ll tell them when they can go in.”

Kix grumbled under his breath but didn’t have a choice except to lay down as best he could on the uncomfortable sofa and close his eyes.

________

Rex and Kallus came to switch off babysitting duty with Hera and Sabine not long after Kix finally laid down, and after another thirty minutes or so, Chopper and Zeb were allowed in to see Ezra. Apparently the ‘two visitors at a time’ rule was still in place, so while Rex waited for his turn, his younger self offered to take him to the barracks, and he had to agree. Even if it was just a tour, he needed to see his brothers again, see that they were all alive and themselves, not the mindless machines they had been last time he’d seen them.

Captain Rex stopped the speeder outside the barracks, and Rex hopped off. They hadn’t exactly talked during the ride over, but now, here, he felt it was safe to start the conversation. “So, this is weird.”

Captain Rex snorted. “You’d think by now, we’d be used to weird, but no, this definitely isn’t right.” They shared an awkward smile before Captain Rex gestured for him to lead the way. “So, Tristan, huh?” He asked as they headed inside.

Rex chuckled as he slowed so that he was walking side by side with his younger self. “Yeah, that’s Sabine’s brother’s name. I think she just wanted it to still be in use.”

“Mind if I call you that?”

Rex debated for a second before shaking his head. “Sorry, vod, but my name’s Rex. We’ll just have to find a way to make it less confusing for everyone else moving forward.”

Just then, they arrived at the door to one of the 501st’s barracks, and Rex frowned. It was never this quiet. and knowing his men, quiet wasn’t good. Captain Rex palmed the door open and led him in, and Rex was surprised to see that the barracks were indeed completely full.

Most of the men were clustered around the center of the room, like they were listening to or waiting for something. Some of them looked up when Captain Rex entered the room, but no one stood to salute, and Rex raised an eyebrow, sharing a look with his alternate self.

“Hey, Captain,” Fives called from near the center of the gathering, and Rex felt his heart lurch in his chest. Fives had died in front of him, in his arms, and he was right here, looking miserable but oh so alive.

Captain Rex steadied him slightly with a hand on his shoulder, before turning to Fives. “What’re you all doing?”

“Waiting for news,” A clone Rex didn’t recognize said, waving a holocom to help explain. “Zeb said he’d comm us when he had news.”

Captain Rex’s face softened a bit and he pushed through the crowd to rest a hand on the clone’s shoulder. “He’s going to be alright, Club.”

Club nodded, and forced a smile. “I know. Fives says he’ll be up and about in a month or so, and Fives is never wrong.”

Rex grinned, because he’d figured out how Fives always knew these things years ago. His younger self had no idea, most likely, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the truth came out now that the war was coming to an end.

From amid the crowd, Echo called out in a mischievous voice, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” And Rex knew he’d guessed who Rex was.

His younger self sighed and shook his head, giving Rex a sympathetic smile. “Well, gentlemen, I’ll do so, so long as you keep calling him Tristan in front of General Skywalker.”

A few groans and and several guffaws split the air as the rest of the men gathered who he was, and Rex stood to attention. “Men,” he said, before his voice broke, and he had to look away to hide the tears in his eyes.

Fives made the first move, standing and saluting. “Captain.”

“Captain,” Jesse echoed, doing the same.

A chorus of “Captain” made its way around the room, every clone standing and saluting, and Rex let the tears stream down his face. These were his men, the ones he’d fought alongside—the ones he’d buried on a desolate moon in the wreckage of a Venator.

Saluting, he smiled despite the tears and was pleasantly surprised by Captain Rex saluting as well.

After a moment, the spell was broken by the holocom chiming, and Club scrambled to answer it. Quickly, the rest of the clones gathered around, pushing and shoving slightly for a better view. They did part for the two Rexes, letting them into the middle, where they could see the hologram of Zeb better.

_ “He looks awful,”  _ Zeb said.  _ “I’m pretty sure Kix was lying when he said he was doing fine. He’s got tubes everywhere, he’s not breathing on his own… Hell, if they could, they’d put him on bypass, but—oh, Kix says there’d be too many risks with that. He just popped in to check on Ezra.” _

The view shifted abruptly from Zeb to Kix hovering over a bacta tank, and Rex hissed in shock. Ezra was not fine—there was no way someone who looked that damaged was fine. He had IVs running into his good arm, his legs were in braces, and he had two tubes, one in his mouth, the other through his nose, both shoved down his throat, a clear mask keeping the surrounding bacta from getting in. Intellectually, Rex knew the first tube helped him breathe, and the second was to provide nutrition, but that didn’t stop the horror of his frail appearance from welling up inside him.

He looked smaller, too, his cheekbones more prominent and his skin paler even through the blue color of the hologram and the bacta. Bandages around his torso covered another tube that looked like it vanished into his side. Kix was switching out bags of the IV, giving him another transfusion and more saline.

Rex shuddered. No wonder Zeb thought Kix had been lying. Someone who was fine didn’t look so much like a corpse.

Captain Rex exhaled slowly, clearly trying to rein in his emotions. “How’s he doing, Kix? And don’t lie this time.”

Kix sighed and turned to the holocom. _ “Not great. If he continues as he is now, he should be able to come out of the bacta in a few days, and come off the ventilator in a week, then after another week we can bring him out of the coma, but there’s no guarantee he isn’t going to have another seizure or suffer another heart attack, either of which would set his recovery back.” _

Rex grimaced but didn’t say anything. It was definitely not as bad as he’d feared—he’d thought that maybe Ezra was slowly dying and there was nothing the doctors could do, so Kix was lying to make them feel better, except that he knew that wasn’t Kix’s style—but it was still bad.

Zeb moved the holocom so that it was him and only him that was in their view.  _ “He looks bad, I know, but Kix thinks he’ll make it.” _

_ “I didn’t say that,”  _ Kix’s voice came from somewhere out of view, but it was moving. He was probably on his way to the door. _ “I said if things stay as they are right now, he might pull through, but even then, we won’t know if he’ll ever wake up until we bring him out of the coma. And chances are, he’s going to have another seizure, and if that tears somehting again or we have to break more ribs if and when he flatlines, he’ll have to go into surgery again, and every time we operate it’s putting more stress on his body.” _

Someone—a clone with two streaks of paint on the left cheekbone of his helmet, one blue, the other gold—swore, and Rex and his counterpart both automatically smacked him upside the head.

Club sighed. “Anything we can do to help?”

_ “No,”  _ Kix said tiredly _ , “Though I do need to talk to Fives whenever I have an actual spare moment.” _

“You need to sleep when you have an actual spare moment,” Rex countered. “Talking to Fives can wait.” He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to convey through tone of voice that he knew exactly what Kix wanted to talk about, and the message must have gotten across, because Kix sighed.

_ “Yes, sir.” _ The comm clicked off.

Captain Rex turned to the rest of the gathered clones. “That goes for all of you, too. Generals Skywalker and Kenobi are off meeting with the Jedi Council about some new intel; we’re probably about to move out again and we’ll need all the rest we can get.”

“What about us?” The clone who’d cursed earlier asked, and Captain Rex sighed.

“I don’t know, Adenn. You’ll have to ask General Kenobi.”

Adenn nodded and saluted, gesturing for Club and two other clones, all with the same marking on their helmets, to follow him. The rest of the crowd dispersed as well, most heading back to their bunks, although Fives, Echo, and Jesse stuck around.

Captain Rex came to stand next to Rex, watching Adenn’s group leave. “That’s Commander Jarrus’s squad.” Rex raised an eyebrow, and he explained, “Ezra’s, I mean. Officially he’s just a lieutenant, but everyone around here calls him commander. He’s… he’s one of us, you know? This has hit us all hard.”

Rex heaved a sigh. “He’s a good kid.”

“So this means we won the bet, right?” Fives asked from behind them, breaking the somber moment. Rex smiled. He’d missed Fives’s sense of humor. Hell, he’d missed the clone in general, as well as his batchmate.

“Fives,” He said warmly, clasping Fives’s arm and pulling him in for a hug. “It’s good to see you,  _ vod.” _

Fives smirked. “Been a while, then?”

“Twenty years, nearly twenty-one. Yeah, it’s been a while,” he said, adding the last part on at Fives’s surprised face.

Next to him, Echo looked just as surprised. “What about me?”

Rex looked at him, noting the expectant look on his face and remembering the last time he’d seen his brother—leaving to join the Bad Batch, saluting with a stump of an arm that was still here in the here and now. “Twenty years, and about four months. So not quite as long.”

“And me?” Jesse asked, his helmet at his feet. Rex looked down at it rather than meet his brother’s eyes.

“Twenty years, three months and eleven days. Since the day the Republic fell.”

Jesse hesitated, then asked, “Did we all die that day?” and Rex swallowed, still not tearing his eyes off of the helmet that he’d placed on a pole above Jesse’s grave.

“Yeah. Yeah, you all died that day. Almost every clone did.”

Behind him, Captain Rex sighed. “Which one?” Rex turned, not sure what he was asking and he explained, “Which order was it? I haven’t read that far ahead in the briefing General Tano gave us.”

Echo and Jesse both made noises of surprise, but Rex ignored them. “She never made General,  _ vod.  _ I still call her ‘Commander’ from time to time.” Not that he’d had an opportunity to, recently. He’d seen her in the waiting room of the hospital when he’d arrived earlier that day, but he hadn’t had a chance to talk to her before Captain Rex had whisked him off to the barracks.

He swallowed hard before actually answering the question. “It was Order Sixty-Six. We all turned on our Jedi, tried to kill them. Ahsoka managed to capture me and remove my chip, but I was the only one. The rest of you…”

“We tried to kill you,” Jesse said, horrified.

“I was going to say you all died when the Venator we were on crash-landed on a moon, but… yeah. Last time I saw you alive you were shooting at me.”

Jesse looked horrified, and Echo was pale when he spoke up. “What about General Skywalker? I know Commander Tano survived, but did we kill our general?”

Captain Rex shook his head. “We lost General Skywalker to the Sith.”

The three all shuddered, sharing a glance between them. “Well, I’m glad that can’t happen this time,” Echo said, glancing at Captain Rex for conformation.

Rex’s counterpart nodded. “Unless the Sith have an ancient ritual that helps them survive a three hundred foot drop into lava, yeah, I’d say he’s dead.”

“Plus you blasted him.” Fives’s comment made Rex give his younger self an appreciative look.

“Nice job,  _ vod.” _

Captain Rex snorted. “We both know it should have been you. You’re the one who actually went through all that.”

Rex just shrugged. He was just glad it couldn’t be done again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Hey, you guys, just wanted to let you know that as of this Saturday, LBBF has officially hit the 100k mark in the draft I have--and it's still not done! I have a minimum four more chapters to write.   
> On the other hand, since it's not fully written, feel free to make requests as to what you want to see more of, as there is a chapters that are supposed to cover a two-week period and I don't have that fully planned. Only stipulation is no shippy stuff. Aside from the canon ships (Anidala, Kanera) there won't be any ships, although I do hint at a couple others (Blyla, Barrissoka).


	17. If Brokenness Is a Form of Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting two chapters today--READ THIS ONE FIRST!  
> On a side note, sorry about the two-week delay. I realized there was a scene I badly needed to edit, and of course I got about one-third of the way through it and hit a massive bout of writer's block. Top that off with plenty of stress and my metal health took another nosedive, so I really wasn't up to posting. So sorry. Here's two chapters to make up for it.

Ashla had watched the Rexes leave sadly. She wanted to pull her Rex aside, apologize to him for letting him think she was dead for so long, pull him in for a hug and never let him go, but his younger self had pulled him aside first and they had left together.

Zeb and Chopper were on their way to Ezra’s room, and so Ashla excused herself to go find Kanan. It didn’t take her long, as he hadn’t gone far from Ezra’s room. He was in the observation room, just on the other side of the one-way mirror from Ezra’s room, looking at his Padawan as Zeb stared, similarly aghast.

“Hey,” she said softly, startling him.

Kanan jumped away from the window, glancing back and forth between it and her, like he wasn’t sure which to give his attention to. “Oh, hey,” he said glumly, finally settling his eyes back on Ezra. “Did Kix talk to you?”

“Sort of,” Ashla said, grabbing one of the two medical stools and scooting it over to where Kanan was standing. She dropped into it with a huff. “He tried to pass it off as not as bad as it actually is.”

Kanan nodded, his jaw visibly clenched. “Did he tell you what his odds are?” Ashla shook her head, but she didn’t need to. Kanan was plowing ahead without waiting for her answer. “Less than ten percent, and even then I think he was sugarcoating it. Even after Anakin brought him back on Mustafar, he just feels so… distant. Barely there.”

Ashla nodded. She knew exactly what Kanan was talking about, as she could feel it herself, though not quite on the level that Kanan could.

Who was she kidding. Nowhere near the level Kanan could. What faint bond there had been between her and her honorary nephew had all but vanished after the events on Malachor, and they’d never had time to reestablish it—not that Ashla thought Ezra would have wanted to. It would have opened him up to loss again, and she didn’t think he’d been ready for that then.

Now… hell, before Umbara, even—he would be more than open to it. He’d healed enough that even losing one of his closest friends in Charger hadn’t thrown him off of keeping himself open to attachments. That was the kind of strength he’d built.

If only his Master would find it in him to do the same.

“What are you going to do if we lose him?” She asked softly, watching Kanan’s reaction.

Sure enough, he flinched. “We’re not losing him.”

“Kanan…” she sighed. “I admire your optimism, but you can't shut off the possibility just because you refuse to accept that you might lose someone you care about. You might need to say goodbye, and if you can't because you refuse to wrap your head around the need, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

Kanan shook his head, tears in his eyes. “I can’t, Ahsoka. I can’t lose him. It almost killed me to lose my Master, but to lose my kid…”

“He’s not your only kid, though,” Ashla reminded him. “You have Sabine and Jacen, too, and you have Hera, Zeb, Chopper… even Kallus and Rex. They’re all going to be grieving as well, and you can't let the grief consume you to the point that you forget that you have them as well.”

Looking down at his feet, Kanan whispered tearfully. “I won’t be able to live with myself.”

“You’ll have to,” Ashla retorted. “He’d never forgive you if you didn’t.”

“I don’t get what you’re asking me to do,” Kanan gritted out. “Am I supposed to be terrified of losing him, hopeful he won’t stay on his present course, or happy that he’s dying? Because I’m getting very mixed signals here.”

Ashla sighed, letting her shoulders slump ever so slightly as she turned back to the window. Zeb had just sat down beside Ezra's tank and Chopper had plugged into the monitors, probably so he could keep track himself of every minuscule fluctuation in Ezra’s vitals.

“Neither,” she answered after a moment. “You’re just supposed to accept it. Grieve, if you have to, if it comes to that, but just accept it. Accept the possibility he’s not going to make it, and then fight with everything in you to keep him here.” She met his eyes. He looked surprised at her vehemence, but she just grabbed his arm. “Please, Kanan. I know you’re helping keep him here. I don’t want to lose him anymore than you do, I’ve just come to terms with the possibility. So please, please. Do everything you can to keep him here.”

Kanan gave a short nod, and she smiled sadly. “Thank you,” she whispered, then stood and left.

_______

Anakin liked to think he was a difficult man to surprise, but he’d been surprised a lot lately. First, by the fact that not only was Ezra’s father alive, but he was his Jedi Master and had been training him for years. Second, by the much less pleasant revelation that Palpatine was a Sith Lord who had put slave chips in his men. His men! The third surprise was a much better one, but not one he could share with anyone any time soon, unless he wanted to be kicked out of the Jedi Order. But Padme was pregnant! He wanted to jump up in the air and whoop at the thought.

But despite those surprises, he thought nothing was going to get the jump on him anymore. Obi-Wan seemed determined to prove him wrong.

“Wait, wait, we’re trusting Ventress on this?” He demanded, and Obi-Wan gave him a firm look from his seat.

“She has even less reason to like Dooku than we do. He used her, abused her, then threw her away when Sidious decided she was too dangerous. Plus, she saved my life.”

The rest of the Council, such as it was, looked mildly surprised. “When was this?” Master Plo asked, and Obi-Wan turned to look at the Kel Dor.

Anakin beat him to the punch, though. “Oh, it was when you went up against Maul, wasn’t it,” he didn’t mean to interrupt, it just came out.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind. “Yes. Without her and Ezra’s aid, I wouldn’t be talking to you now.”

Anakin winced at the reminder of Ezra. That had been another unpleasant surprise, finding out just how close Ezra was to dying. Hell, he was still fighting for his life several miles away and Anakin was here talking to the Council instead of being there for him, and for Ahsoka, who’d been taking it hard, and for Kanan, who was currently hiding from those in his group that didn’t know, and for Ashla….

Realizing he’d gotten lost in his thoughts again, he mentally shook himself and turned his focus back to the Council. Obi-Wan was leading the conversation, explaining how Ventress had helped on Raydonia, but he was interrupted by Ki-Adi-Mundi before he finished.

“How do you know this isn’t a trap? She has tried to kill you on various occasions in the past, and you have returned the favor. How do you know she isn’t going to betray you?”

Obi-Wan shrugged, looking nonplussed at the question. “Because she has a reason not to. While we were on Raydonia, we found a young Force-sensitive girl, and Ventress took a shine to her—” Anakin doubted that was the case, but he shut his mouth and kept listening “—and while I have no doubt that she wants to teach young Jaesa how to use the Force, she will be uncertain how to do so without our aid.”

“You want her to join the Jedi Order?” Kit Fisto asked, and Anakin had to agree with the surprise in the Nautolan’s voice.

Obi-Wan scoffed. “Ideally, yes, but I’m not naive. I want her to be able to learn about the Force 0from more than one perspective, is all.”

“Of young Jaesa, you speak, or of Ventress?” Yoda asked, and Obi-Wan shrugged.

“Both. But we’re not here because of Jaesa, we’re here because we have a solid lead on where Dooku is. Do you actually want to pursue this time, or will we have to leave without your express permission?”

Anakin ducked his head to hide a smile, his eyes darting to one of the four empty seats: Mace Windu’s, Saesee Tiin's, Agen Kolar’s, and Oppo Rancisis’s, the latter of whom had died while on a mission on Saleucami. Idly, he wondered who would fill them. Master Bilaba would be an obvious choice. She’d served on the council before, and she’d been Master Windu’s Padawan. He’d probably want it to be her.

Not that Anakin could really say for sure. He’d had a good working relationship with Master Windu, but he hadn’t really had the chance to discuss their Padawans.

Suddenly realizing he’d lost track of the conversation around him, Anakin snapped to attention, quickly surmising that he’d only missed them agreeing to send someone. Now the topic of discussion was who should go.

_ “Obi-Wan is the clear choice,”  _ Shaak Ti was saying, _ “With his rapport with Ventress, he’ll be able to communicate and coordinate better.” _

“His Padawan is in the hospital, in critical condition,” Kit Fisto countered.

Anakin huffed. “Actually, Ezra is Kanan’s Padawan; Obi-Wan was just… substitute teaching.”

Obi-Wan huffed a quiet laugh but somehow kept a straight face. “Unfortunately, as much as I hate to admit it, I can do nothing here. I have no objection to going.”

Anakin couldn’t help but gape slightly at his former Master for a minute before it clicked. Obi-Wan hated waiting around, wondering if Ezra would get better. Obi-Wan was better at hiding it, but he was just as eager to get up and do something to help fix the situation as Anakin was.

“I’ll go too,” Anakin volunteered before he could think better of it. “Might as well, right?”

Obi-Wan returned his smile gratefully, then raised an eyebrow at the rest of the Council. “Agreed, we are.” Yoda said at last. “Knight Skywalker, Master Kenobi, to Utapau you will go. Help Ventress, and capture Dooku, you will.”

“There is one more thing,” Obi-Wan said. “Ezra’s condition remains critical. I’d like to arrange for a Jedi healer to see him. They might be able to help in a way that ordinary medicine can’t.”

The rest of the Council turned to Yoda, who nodded slowly. “Agree, I do. A young life, always worthy to be saved, is.”

_ “Take whatever back-up you deem necessary to confront Dooku,”  _ Master Ti insisted, _ “We don’t know if he’ll have any of his forces with him. In the meantime, we’ll ensure the lieutenant is seen to.” _

Anakin nodded, sharing a look with Obi-Wan before bowing to the Council and making his way to the door.

_______

“A moment, if you would, Master Kenobi,” Yoda said as they all began filing out of the Council chambers. Obi-Wan immediately slowed, waving Anakin on ahead, and turned back to the diminutive master, who was only now hobbling out of his seat.

“Yes, Master?” He asked. Every time he addressed Yoda as such, he couldn’t help but feel like a Youngling again, being asked to stay behind in class because he’d been disruptive or had said something the teacher disagreed with.

Yoda smiled wanly at him. “Much to discuss, we have, and so little time. Preparations to leave, you are already planning, hm?” Obi-Wan nodded, not sure what to say in reply to that, and Yoda tapped his gimmer stick on the floor. “For over a week now, has the Order gone without a Master. Master Windu, previously, held the title, and now, having passed into the Force, no longer can he fulfill that duty.”

“Forgive me if I misunderstand, Master Yoda, but Master Windu passed that title back to you at the beginning of the war, did he not?” Obi-Wan asked as they made their way out of the room, well behind the rest of the masters.

Yoda hummed. “Old, am I, young Kenobi. Many years have I seen. Set in my ways, am I. Someone with fresh perspectives, the Order needs. Time, it is, for the next generation of Jedi to step up, and take charge. Worry not, Obi-Wan,” he added quickly when Obi-Wan made to protest, “Help, I will. Grandmaster I will remain. But under new direction, will the Order be.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. It made sense. With the shocking revelation that the Sith had been hiding almost literally under the Jedi Order’s very nose, it was clear something was wrong with the Order if they were that blind. It made sense to start at the top and work their way down to make sure the changes were thorough. That did beg one question though. “Who do you have in mind?”

Yoda gave him a look that Obi-Wan would almost call exasperated as the elevator doors slid open to let them in. “A reason there is, that talking to you, I am.”

“You… want my help finding someone to fill the role?” Obi-Wan guessed as they stepped into the elevator. He wasn’t being purposely obtuse, he just genuinely did not understand why Yoda was speaking to him about this.

Yoda smacked his shin with his gimmer stick. “Hmph. Take after your Padawan, you do. See what is right in front of you, you do not.”

This time, Obi-Wan understood, and his jaw dropped open. “You want me to become Master of the Order?”

Nodding, Yoda gave him a serious look. “Understand, Obi-Wan, that ask this lightly I do not. Great this burden may seem at times, especially as the war ends. But help you will always have, if only you ask for it.”

There was a hidden scolding in the words, and Obi-Wan felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he suddenly took interest in his boots. “Master…”

Yoda raised a hand. “Better about it you have become, in recent months, but if this burden you chose to take, help you will need, and ask for it you must. If you do not ask for help, no one will.”

“If I chose, Master? I thought you were just going to appoint me.”

“No, Obi-Wan. Nominate you, yes, but appoint you, I would not, without first speaking to you. Too heavy a burden is this, to hand out without consultation. Responsible for the decisions of the Order, you will be, and look to you for guidance, the other Jedi will, if chose to accept you do.”

Nodding slowly, Obi-Wan waited until the elevator had slid to a stop before asking, “Do you honestly think I’m ready for this responsibility, Master?”

Yoda gave him what could technically count as a reassuring smile. “Ask this of you, I would not, if ready for this, you were not. Accept, do you?”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips. Was he accepting? He honestly didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he could do this… but who else would? Yoda was asking him, clearly he thought that not only could Obi-Wan do it, but he was the best choice for it. Stroking his beard, Obi-Wan sighed. “I need time, Master. I’ll have your answer when we get back from Utapau.”

Yoda looked like he’d expected that answer, and tapped the floor with his gimmer stick. “Excellent. Until then, handle the Senate, I will.”

“Oh, bother,” Obi-Wan muttered, then louder, said, “I don’t suppose I’d be able to hand Senate responsibilities off to some other Master?”

Chuckling, Yoda turned and started walking away. “No Master Kenobi. Your responsibility this would be.”

________

Kanan didn’t know what time it was, but it was late. Most everyone—with the exception of Kix, because the medic had no concept of self-care—had left the hospital. All seven of the other Spectres, including Rex and Kallus, were staying on the  _ Ghost, _ while Ashla and Ahsoka stayed in the Jedi Temple. Ahsoka had opened her room to her double, probably without explanation to Anakin. It seemed like the general was the only one not in the loop about the time travel, and part of Kanan felt bad about that, while the other part was just worried about how he would take it when he did find out.

Sighing, he adjusted his seat next to Ezra’s bacta tank and tried not to stare at Ezra’s inert figure. It was hard, both looking at him and not looking at him. The desire to keep an eye on him even in the tank warred with the guilt and fear that seeing him like this caused, so he settled for alternating watching him like a hawk and staring at his hands.

The hospital was quiet, only the steady beeping of the monitors and the distant sounds of the nurses making their nightly rounds reaching Kanan’s ears. Closing his eyes, he could sense both the staff and their patients, all of the former and most of the latter significantly brighter and stronger than the person next to him.

Ezra’s signature was flickering, faint and weak. Obi-Wan and Anakin had arranged for a Jedi healer to see him sometime soon, but between the war and the situation with the Senate, most of the Jedi were preoccupied. Ashla had asked Barriss to come help, but she was currently reinforcing Master Plo in the Outer Rim and wouldn’t be back for another week or two.

That’d probably be the soonest he could be seen, as the war had suddenly escalated in violence following the battle of Mustafar, and Jedi were being injured or killed at a rate more twice what it had been before. All the other healers were either wrapped up in their work at the Temple or too unskilled to help do what needed to be done for Ezra.

With another sigh, Kanan reached out and pressed a hand to Ezra’s bacta tank. At the same time, he reached out with the Force, wrapping himself around Ezra’s signature and coaxing it to grow stronger, feeding it with his own strength. He was no healer, that had never been his speciality, but this was something he could do, even if it tired him out.

“Careful,” the voice from the doorway startled him, and he pulled back, both physically and mentally. Anakin was watching him with a sad expression. “Don’t overdo it or you’re going to be in just as bad a position.”

Kanan huffed and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and scrubbing his face with his hands. “I know, I know, I just… I can’t stand seeing him like this, you know?”

Anakin nodded, coming over and dropping into the other chair in the room. “I know. Trust me, this isn’t easy for me either.”

Humming in acknowledgement, Kanan let the room fall into silence for a moment, broken only by the monotonous beeping of the monitors. Finally, he asked, “What time do you leave?”

With a sigh, Anakin sat forward. “Tomorrow morning. Oh-six hundred hours.” He paused, then added, “We’re leaving Ahsoka here.”

Kanan nodded. He wasn’t surprised. It was one thing for Anakin and Obi-Wan to leave—he even understood their reasons—but it was another to drag along a girl who’d just seen two of her friends tortured, one of them to the verge of death. She needed time to recover just as much as Sabine did, even if her injury had already healed.

“Good,” he said after a minute. “I don’t think she’d want to leave Ezra right now.”

Anakin sighed. “And I understand that, it’s just…”

“I know; you need to be doing something or else you’re going to drive yourself crazy,” Kanan finished for him, and Anakin nodded. “You remind me of Ezra that way. He can’t stand waiting around, he needs to be doing something—it’s probably a good thing he’s comatose now or he’d be driving Kix and the rest of the doctors crazy with his antics.”

With a soft chuckle, Anakin nodded. “Yeah, I know Kix was about ready to space him after he lost his arm. At one point he left the medbay unsupervised and ran to the  _ Twilight.  _ We had a nice discussion about blame and guilt.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?” Kanan asked distractedly, his eyes back on Ezra’s face.

“No,” Anakin answered. “Guilt is subjective; blame is objective. But since you clearly don’t know the difference between the two, I’ll tell you what Ezra can’t: this is not your fault. It’s not your fault, it’s not Sabine’s fault, and it’s not my fault. The only person whose fault it is is Sidious.”

Kanan clenched his jaw, working up a response to get Anakin to understand that it was his fault, that he’d failed as a Master and as a father, but Anakin cut him off before he could even open his mouth.

“Don’t even start,” he said with a stern look that might’ve been more intimidating if Kanan hadn’t seen the same look on Ezra’s face when he was trying to boss Zeb and/or Sabine around. “Remember that I was the one who sent them out of the Senate building, right into Sidious’s arms. Trust me, I know how guilt works.

“It was my plan that cost Ezra his arm, it was my idea that got him captured, and it was me who was too slow getting the detonator out of Sidious’s hands. Trust me, I know exactly how guilty you feel. I failed him, and I failed Ahsoka, and while I’m neithers’ parent, I am their friend, and I would even count myself as their family.

“I failed them, but the only person I can truly blame is Sidious. Because I did everything I could, and maybe that wasn’t enough, but that’s not on me because at least I tried my best. Same with you. You did everything you could. You’re still doing it. And in my opinion? That means more than being able to stop this.”

Kanan was quiet for a minute, turning Anakin’s words over in his head. Finally, he asked, “When did you become the wise one? I thought that was Master Kenobi.”

“Haha,” Anakin rolled his eyes. “I just learned from him and from Ezra. You’ve got a good kid.”

Kanan looked down at his hands, fear spreading its icy grasp around his heart. He felt almost sick, thinking that soon, if things didn’t take a drastic turn for the better, he might not have Ezra anymore.

Anakin saw the look on his face and misinterpreted it. “Hey, I’m sorry for what I said back before Mustafar. You do deserve him.”

“It’s not that,” Kanan said softly. “It’s that… I’m losing him. Slowly, but every day I reach out and he’s even farther away. How long before he’s too far gone and I lose him forever?”

Sighing, Anakin pressed his lips together in a firm line. “Maybe… I’m no healer, but with your connection to him, and my power… do you think maybe we can jumpstart the healing process?”

For the first time in three days, Kanan felt hope. “You think we can do that?”

Anakin shrugged. “Worth a shot, right?”

Kanan nodded and carefully pressed both hands onto Ezra’s bacta tank. As Anakin placed his hands on his shoulders, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Reaching out, he clung tight to his and Ezra’s bond and opened it as wide as it would go, pouring all his energy into him as possible, careful to keep the flow of energy constant rather than sudden.

It only took a second for him to feel Anakin’s knock on his shields, and he lowered them to let him in. The sudden wellspring of power caught him off guard, and he faltered for a split second before grabbing hold of the power and directing it through the bond.

As Ezra’s signature slowly started to flare brighter, Kanan noticed a fog around him, like a darkness clinging to his signature, and directed the torrent of power Anakin was lending him toward clearing that. It was slow work, but eventually it started to dissipate. As the black fog cleared, Ezra’s signature grew stronger, and Kanan could have sobbed with relief as it slowly stabilized. Before he could clear the fog fully, though, Anakin pulled back.

Kanan’s eyes snapped open, and he slumped back into his seat, feeling hollow and empty. Behind him, he heard Anakin panting, and glanced over his shoulder to ask why exactly he’d stopped. He didn’t need to ask, though, because the moment he saw the younger Jedi, he realized that Anakin was wiped out. He was pale, sweating, and trembling ever so slightly.

Kanan managed an apologetic look. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have used so much…” There had just been so much available he hadn’t even thought about Anakin’s limits. Did he even have limits? Kanan was pretty sure he did, given how hard he was panting, but his Force signature was still just as strong, and Kanan found himself wondering if it was more a matter of what Anakin thought his limits were rather than what they actually were.

Anakin waved him off. “I’m fine. How is he?”

Kanan sighed, shifting in his seat so he could face Anakin and keep one hand on the bacta tank. “Better. Much better.”

“Good. Then it was worth it.” Anakin sat back, blowing out a heavy breath. “Probably better get Kix to double check, just to make sure it didn’t mess something up, but…”

Nodding, Kanan turned to look at Ezra, floating peacefully in his tank. After a moment he glanced at the chrono, raised his eyebrows, and turned back to Anakin and asked, “How did you do that?”

Anakin frowned. “Do what?”

“Keep up that much energy for nearly an hour,” Kanan said, gesturing at the chrono on the wall opposite the tank.

Anakin gaped at it for a few seconds before shaking his head slowly. “Force… I know I’ve gotten stronger, but…” Kanan waited for a few more seconds, eyebrow raised, and Anakin eventually shook himself and turned back to Kanan. “It’s something Ezra told me how to do—I figured it out during the battle on Mustafar. Apparently he figured it out when he had to go up against Master Pong Krell on Umbara.”

Kanan nodded; he’d heard the story of the catastrophic losses on Umbara, a clone-on-clone attack that, he knew, had left its scars on his Rex. To hear that Ezra had done his best to fix that was no surprise.

“Basically,” Anakin explained, “you have to use both the Light side of the Force… and the Dark side, without using either. It’s… hard to explain, but once you get it, it’s actually really easy to master. I’m just… not sure the rest of the Jedi Order is going to see it the same way.”

“All due respect,” Kanan said, “but kriff the Jedi Order. If they aren’t going to work towards balance, they’re just as bad as the Sith.”

Anakin looked mildly shocked. “Kanan, they’re the Jedi Order. They’ve stood for ten thousand years, preserving peace in the galaxy—”

“No,” Kanan interrupted, “They’ve preserved the order of the galaxy. You and I, we’ve been to the Outer Rim. We know how the people out there live, hand-to-mouth under constant fear of raiders or slavers—or worse. The Jedi have no concept of that, they’re too busy handling petty land disputes. I won’t argue that those disputes need to be handled, but a Jedi’s skills shouldn’t be wasted strictly on playing lawyer for the Senate. We’re supposed to help people, not stand on the sidelines and watch.”

Anakin sighed. “I don’t disagree with you, but…”

Nodding, Kanan sighed. “I know, I know. It’s hard to outright state that we need a new Order. But the least we can do is redo the current one, so that we are actually doing what we’re supposed to be doing: healing, protecting, nurturing, teaching. We might not be an Order of warriors, but we are peacekeepers, even in the outer reaches of the galaxy, which the current Council seems happy to neglect.

“Maybe not the individual councilors,” Kanan said to answer Anakin’s protests, “But as a whole, the Council—the whole Order, really—are content to leave things as they are—maintain the status quo. But that’s not enough. The current status quo lets slavers like the Hutts and Zygerrians and terrorists like Death Watch get away with murder—literally. And that’s something I can’t stand for.”

Anakin still looked torn. “Again, I don’t disagree, but we can’t go and just stop them. There are the politics to consider—”

Kanan sighed. This was something he’d put a lot of thought into since coming back in time, as this was the only way he’d rejoin the Order. “Then the Order needs to be something separate from politics, separate from the Republic. We’re not peacekeepers if we’re working only for the Republic; we’re police, or worse: soldiers.”

“As someone who has fought as a soldier for the last three years, I take offense to that,” Anakin said tiredly. “The war would have gone a lot worse if we hadn’t been fighting alongside the military.”

“Then that’s what we should do: fight alongside the military. Not for it. If we put ourselves under the control of military officials, or politicians for that matter, we’re neglecting our Code. We’re supposed to be separate from the affairs of the galaxy so that anyone who needs our help can get it without fear of political repercussions.”

Finally, Anakin sighed, conceding defeat with a raise of his hands. “You’re right, I just… I don’t even know how to begin to ask the Council to consider that, let alone implement it.”

Kanan smirked slightly. “I have some thoughts about that, but it’ll have to wait. I’m not part of the Jedi Order yet, and I doubt they’ll listen to me unless I am. Then the two of us can work on convincing the councilors individually.”

“Obi-Wan should be easy,” Anakin put in, and Kanan nodded.

“We’ll have to wait and see who gets the open seats before we start working on strategies, though--” Kanan cut himself off as a familiar signature brushed against his mind, and he stuttered to a stop, whipping his head around to stare at Ezra. 

Beside him, Anakin made a noise of surprise. “Ezra?”

“Kix!” Kanan called, immediately leaning over the bacta tank and pressing his hands against the glass. “Hey in there kiddo, hang in there--”

This time he was cut off by the shrieking of a monitor, and he jumped upright as Ezra’s presence signature slipped away, leaving Kanan feeling cold, the way he had become accustomed to whenever Ezra flatlined.

Kix burst into the room, a whirlwind of frantic energy as he pressed buttons on the bacta tank’s interface, all the while calling into the comm on his wrist for nurses and a crash cart. As the bacta started draining away, he turned to Kanan and Anakin. “Out, now. I’ll be out as soon as possible.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kanan saw Anakin nod, even though he could tell the other Jedi didn’t like it, but he was too busy staring at the all too still figure in the tank to process what Kix had said. He felt Anakin’s arm around his elbow, but his feet were rooted to the spot. 

“C’mon, Kanan,” Anakin’s urgent voice filtered through the ringing in his ears, and Kanan shook himself. Right. Move. They were only going to be in the way. 

Reluctantly, he let the younger man drag him out of the room, as a team of medics came running in, bringing equipment with them. Anakin only stopped when they reached a bench against one wall, then pushed Kanan down onto it.

“Stay there,” Anakin said, and Kanan nodded, not pulling his eyes off the door to Ezra’s room. He was paying even more attention to the feeling of Ezra’s mind, dim and flickering, and almost going out before finally stabilizing. He let out a sigh of relief and finally tore his eyes away to look at Anakin. 

“He’s back.” Kanan was getting heartily sick of saying that phrase.

Anakin heaved a sigh of relief, running a hand over his face. “Okay. That’s good. And it’s good that he was aware enough to reach out, that’s got to mean something. See, Kanan? He’s getting better!”

Kanan managed a half smile, not wanting to voice the pessimistic thoughts in his head reminding him that his reaching out had caused him to crash. Still, he nodded. “We should check in with Kix, tell him what we did.”

Anakin made a noise of agreement, and Kanan looked over at him. His shoulders were drooping, and his eyes were red and only barely held open. 

“Actually,” Kanan added, “I’ll tell Kix. You should go rest up; you have a mission tomorrow. You need your beauty sleep.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, because that’s gonna happen.”

“Hey,” Kanan said, firmly this time. “Go home. Rest. Enjoy sleeping in your own bed for once. We’ll let you know if anything happens.” 

For a minute he didn’t think Anakin was going to listen to him, but then the younger man sighed and nodded. “Okay. Fine. But Obi-Wan, Rex and I are all going to want updates. Oh, and Ezra’s squad is staying here, so they’ll probably be visiting sometime. And--”

“I get it, I get it. Go home.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Anakin backed away, holding his hands up defensively. “Sheesh.”

Kanan watched him go with a slight smile, then turned back to the door to Ezra’s room. The team of nurses had left, and Kix was standing in the doorway, looking over the charts. With a sigh, Kanan stood and went over to face the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something that bugs me about the Star Wars fandom is that a lot of people are of one of two opinions: that the Jedi were good and therefore they were perfect, or that the Jedi weren't perfect, therefore they weren't good. Both of those ideas are fundamentally flawed, as the Jedi were clearly the good guys, trying to maintain peace and order throughout the galaxy, but at the same time, it was made up of flawed beings. If a whole is made up of imperfect parts, the whole is going to be imperfect. And that is something that I've been trying to capture--the Jedi were good, but they weren't perfect. And that's okay, because they were at least trying to get better. Or they were before the war, which made them have to prioritize being good soldiers over being good people.


	18. Fault Lines Tremble Underneath My Glass House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter I'm posting today--READ THE PREVIOUS ONE FIRST!  
> This chapter takes place simultaneously with the last section of the last chapter, just FYI.

Ezra wasn’t sure where he was, but it was cold, and dark. There was a hollow, empty feeling in his chest, and he frowned, reaching out mentally.

He couldn’t feel anyone else in the Force.

He should have felt panicked. He should have felt anything, really, but mostly he just felt numb, detached in a way that made him feel like he was dreaming.

Turning, he took in the scene around him, and was surprised to see a desert landscape, washed in pale moonlight. A small fire crackled in front of him, and between him and the fire, sat a hunched figure. Chopper was nearby, powered down, and a short ways away a dewback was standing, pawing at its head.

Ezra smiled slightly. He knew this scene. Cautiously, he made his way around the fire and sank down between the dewback and Chopper, leaning against the droid’s side. He’d missed the ornery droid, and was glad to see him in any form, even a dream—or a memory, rather—like this.

“Master Kenobi?” Ezra asked softly, and the hunched figure looked up.

Now that Ezra had met the younger version of Obi-Wan, it was weird seeing this older version. He could still see the Jedi he knew, hidden under the bleached hair, suntanned complexion and wrinkled skin, but it was harder to hear the similarities when he spoke.

“Indeed, Young Bridger. I would ask what brings you out all this way, but something tells me I already know.”

Obi-Wan’s voice had lost the smooth elegance of his Core World roots, becoming something slightly rougher, older… sadder. There wasn’t the edge of sarcasm that Obi-Wan nearly always had present, and even the look in his eyes was missing its sparkle. Order Sixty-Six had destroyed him nearly as much as it had destroyed the Jedi.

Without meaning to, Ezra said, “You know who I am.” He had wanted to say something else, tell this old, sad man that everything he’d suffered through wasn’t in vain, that they had found a way to go back and fix everything, but apparently he couldn’t stray from the script.

Just like last time, Master Kenobi looked down at the fire, a distant look in his eye. “I do.”

“I’m not him, you know,” Ezra said, frowning. Before, he’d been defensive, on edge at how disinterested Master Kenobi had seen, but now he was just sad. It must have broken this man’s heart to see his best friend’s son all grown up, with no memory of his parents or any real resemblance to them. “I’m not Anakin. I’m not Vader.”

Obi-Wan looked up, slightly surprised. “You know.” Not a question, a statement. Last time around he’d been angry, angry that this man had hidden, hadn’t stayed with him to make sure he was safe growing up. Now, knowing Obi-Wan as he did, he trusted that he had a reason, even if it wasn’t one Ezra fully understood.

“That my father was the man who helped end the Jedi? That he’s been hunting us--and killing us? That he was the one to kill Aunt ‘Soka? Yeah, I know. But I’m not  _ him.” _

Master Kenobi hummed softly. “It sounds to me as if you’re trying to convince yourself as much as you’re trying to convince me. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t see him when I look at you. No, you look more like his mother, though you do have a bit of  _ your  _ mother in you.”

Ezra shifted, shooting Chopper a look. He had never known how much of this conversation Chopper had really been listening to, or how much he understood, and resolved to ask the droid next time he saw him, assuming he ever woke up from this dream. With a huff, he crossed his arms. “Yeah, but I must look something like him, or else Aunt ‘Soka wouldn’t have thought it was a possibility.”

“Is that how you found out,” Ezra once again got the impression that this wasn’t a question, but rather a statement.

Nodding, he turned his attention to the fire, deflating slightly. “Yeah. She had us do a DNA test after she saw that I didn’t look anything like my mother and father.” Stars, five years. Five years since the Togruta he hadn’t recognized had recognized something in him, and had proceeded to turn his world upside down.

“Ah, yes, the Bridgers.” Master Kenobi set his stick to the side, wiping his hands on his sand-covered robes. “I heard their transmissions, I’m glad you take after them. They were good people.”

Straightening, Ezra sent the older man a scowl. It was so easy, now, to fall into the way he’d been thinking when he’d done this the first time, and right at this moment he’d been thinking how unfair it was that Master Kenobi hadn’t been there for him. “Did you actually know them, or were they just the first people you could pawn a baby off on?”

Master Kenobi didn’t take offense. Not that Ezra was really surprised. Knowing how much vitriol he’d put up with, between Ventress, Dooku, and Hondo—hell, even from Anakin at times—Ezra was sure he’d heard far worse. “I didn’t know them, but I wouldn’t have pawned any baby off on a stranger, let alone the child of my best friend. The Force guided me to them. I knew you would be safe.”

“Until they got arrested and I grew up on the streets.”

“Which put you in the position of being able to join your crew and be trained,” Master Kenobi countered. “The Force works all things for a reason. After all, if you had not joined the crew, you would not now be a Jedi, would you?”

He still wasn’t sure why he was reliving this memory, but part of him was glad for the opportunity to go back and see it all again from this new perspective. He’d never really forgiven the older version of Obi-Wan for leaving him unattended, but now… He found it so easy to understand where Obi-Wan had been coming from, and so easy to forgive him as well.

Ezra looked down. “’m not sure that’s what I am anymore,” he muttered.

“Oh?” Master Kenobi said, and he could hear the raised eyebrow. “And why do you think that has changed?”

As he inhaled sharply, he remembered just how badly he’d scrambled to find the right words, trying to convince Master Kenobi that there was something wrong with him without turning the man against him. He couldn’t take another rejection from the man who had literally given up on him as a baby. “I--the Dark Side. I’ve used it. It won’t stop calling to me. I--I’m becoming like him.”

Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. He might have been using the Dark Side for a similar reason, but he had never given himself over to it completely the way Vader had, had never lost sight of what he was fighting for. It was a relief, looking back on it, and he wished there was a way he could tell his younger self—and Master Kenobi, too—that he would never go back to that edge again. He was more than his father’s mistakes, more than his own. How things would have been different if he’d understood that sooner. 

Of course, his memory of Master Kenobi didn’t stop talking just so Ezra could ruminate. “And you’re afraid of this?” He was saying, and Ezra immediately spluttered in shock.

“I’m afr—Of course I’m afraid of this! He has killed so many people, he helped end the Jedi, he’s literally everything I’ve learned to fear since Kanan told me about the Dark Side!”

Master Kenobi hummed. “Has ‘Kanan’ told you what fear leads to? Anger, then hatred, then suffering. The Dark Side.”

“He’s… mentioned it.” He’d done a great deal more than that. He’d lectured Ezra on it so much after he’d discovered his use of the Sith holocron, Ezra was never getting that ‘fear leads to anger’ spiel out of his head.

“And what has he to say about your fears?” If his tone could have gotten any drier, it’d make Tatooine look like a water world. Ezra remembered fishing for words, only to come up empty, but now he just watched the older Jedi as he pushed himself to his feet. “You haven’t told him.”

Ezra shook his head, following Master Kenobi with his eyes. “How can I? ‘Oh, hey, Master, remember that Jedi that you looked up to? The one that Ahsoka spoke so fondly of? The one we found out was my biological father? Yeah, turns out he turned to the Dark Side and is the one who killed Aunt ‘Soka. I think I might be just like him when I grow up!’” His voice cracked on the last syllable, and he quickly looked back at the fire.

The ironic thing was, Ezra wasn’t too unlike Anakin, either. Stubborn, sarcastic, empathetic. There were certain things he didn’t mind being compared to Anakin about. But Vader? Oh, Vader was everything he never wanted to be, and he wasn't ashamed of how vehemently opposed he was to ever being compared to that monster.

A voice cut into his thoughts. “You’re afraid of what your friends will think.”

“Yes!” Ezra exclaimed angrily. “Yes, I’m afraid of what they would think. If they find out about this, they might decide I’m a risk to keep around because of my connection with  _ him.  _ They’re the only family I have, I can’t lose them.”

Master Kenobi sighed, sitting back down. “And in this, you are like your father. I don’t know exactly what happened when he fell, but I have had many years to think back over those final weeks, and I believe it was my fault that he fell. He had been having visions of your birth mother dying, and he was terrified that it would happen. After all, he had dreamed of his mother dying for months before it actually happened. But the only person he felt he could trust with his fears was the Chancellor, who became the Emperor. 

“Therein lay my part in the blame: he didn’t think he could trust me with that secret. He feared what I would think of him. He feared being expelled from the Jedi Order. That fear drove him to rely solely on the Emperor for assurance, which he twisted in order to lead Anakin to the Dark Side. Anakin was so afraid of losing my goodwill and his wife and the life she carried that he pushed us all away.

“I will tell you what I wish I could have told him: don’t let this fear control you. If you do not trust your friends, you will drive them away. And no one is meant to be alone. That is a sure way to follow in your father’s footsteps. If you want to be different, if you want to be better than him, learn from his mistakes.”

Ezra looked down at the fire. Force, he wished he’d taken this to heart sooner. Oh, he’d followed Master Kenobi’s advice and had told the crew of the Ghost about Vader, but he hadn’t really understood it or followed through with it until… well, until after Kadavo. Until after he’d nearly irreparably damaged several friendships.

Had Obi-Wan been wondering throughout this conversation how much to tell him? Had he agonized over it the same way Ezra had agonized over how much to tell Rex, Ahsoka, and Kix? Had he considered at all what telling Ezra could change? Did he regret what he didn’t say more, or what he did? Ezra looked up from the fire to ask, only to suddenly find himself in a different desert, the predawn sky a shade of grey that was slowly getting lighter with every moment that passed.

A presence suddenly brushed against his mind, and Ezra shifted, looking out of the corner of his eye as he stood. “Bendu, I know you’re there.”

“Interesting,” the Bendu rumbled. “It has been many years since I've had a visitor, and none of them have known my name. But then, we met before. And we will meet again, and we are meeting now. Time is a curious thing, is it not?”

“You know what's happened to me.” Ezra didn’t really need the confirmation, but he wasn’t really sure what else to say in response to… that.

The Bendu just made a contented sound. “The Force has brought you here, young timewalker. And I am of the Force.”

Which made sense, honestly. Ezra would just like to know how exactly the Force communicated this kind of thing and see if it would please communicate with him like that, thank you. The Force had been patently unhelpful for most of the time he’d been in the past. Well… up until he’d balanced himself. Then it might as well have been screaming at him.

There were a few questions it still hadn’t answered, though. “Why? Why me, why here, and why now? How did this even happen? I’ve never heard of anyone, Jedi or not, time traveling.” Much less coming back from the dead, he added mentally, thinking of Kanan.

The Bendu just hummed. “Tell me what happened before you were brought here. What do you remember?”

“We had found a planet in Wild Space, and I was supposed to scout it out, see if it would be safe for us to use as a base for a little bit. I found an old cave that looked like it used to be occupied, years and years ago, and there was a chamber inside that had a painting on one of the walls. It was a mural of the Father, Son and Daughter.”

That had been a shock to find. He still wasn’t sure if it was another door, or the same door, or something else entirely, but he knew it had to be connected to the World Between Worlds. There was no way it wasn’t, seeing as that was the only way he’d heard of the Force being able to manipulate time.

Nodding his big head, the Bendu shifted, settling into what was presumably a more comfortable position and making clouds of sand burst into the air. “And you activated the Father.”

Ezra coughed, waving a hand in front of his face to clear the air as he nodded. “Accidentally. I… I knew what would happen if I activated the Daughter or Son, I'd found another painting in the Jedi Temple on Lothal that did the same thing, but I had… cut myself off from the Force. I didn't mean to use it, but the Father called to me and it just… happened. Next thing I knew I was nearly twenty years in the past.”

“Ah, yes. It was the balance that brought you here. In your future the balance is delicate, barely there. In order to restore itself, it has sent you here.” As he said it, the Bendu subtly lifted its head, and Ezra knew he’d just spotted the memory of Obi-Wan.

“So, what, I'm supposed to bring balance to the Force?” He asked snarkily, and the Bendu returned his gaze to him.

“No, that is your father's task. Your task is much simpler, and much more difficult. You must show him how.”

Now, he knew Obi-Wan was here. He knew he’d heard this part. Casually, Ezra reached out to see if he could feel him here and now, but instead he felt something else—someone else.

Kanan. And… Anakin? He got the feeling they were close, but it was so hard to keep this connection to them—he wanted to keep it going anyway, but suddenly something in him shifted, and he felt like ice water had been injected into his veins. Something was wrong, very wrong, and he didn’t know what. All he knew was that it felt like a pit had formed in his stomach and his hands were shaking and Force there was a silence that suddenly overwhelmed him and he couldn’t hold the connection anymore.

He blacked out for a moment, and when he came to, he was on his hands and knees, gasping for breath and feeling like he’d just done a hundred katas back to back. He hurt all over. With a gasp of pain, Ezra sat back, pressing a hand to his chest. It ached like he’d been punched. Multiple times.

Panting, he glanced up at the Bendu, eyeing him cautiously as he waited for the conversation to pick back up. When it didn’t, he broke from the script and managed, “I have. I showed him how to balance himself, and he’ll teach Ahsoka, Ashla, Obi-Wan, and Kanan, and they’ll teach the rest of the Order. I did it.” The breathy laugh he let out when he realized that startled him, and he practically collapsed back onto the ground, grinning. His job was over. He could rest easy now.

The Bendu sighed, but when Ezra glanced at him, he could see a smile on the gigantic being’s face. “Indeed, young timewalker. And now, you have a choice.”

Ezra sat up, brushing dust from his hair as he frowned. “What do you mean, a choice?”

“That disturbance you felt a moment ago, what do you think that was?” Bendu asked in return, and he sighed, not really feeling up to the usual mind games.

“I don’t know… but it hurt.”

“No,” the Bendu corrected. “What your friends did in response was what hurt. What necessitated that response?”

Ezra thought back to the moment, and realized that in the all-consuming silence, he hadn’t been able to hear his own heartbeat. “I’m dying.” At the Bendu’s slow nod, he asked, “Is that the choice you meant? Stay or go?”

“Stay or go, yes,” The Bendu rumbled, looking kinder than he ever had in real life. “But it is not as simple as that.”

Of course not. It never was. With a heavy sigh, Ezra scrubbed his hand over his face. “What.”

“Your journey this far has been one trial after another, yes?” Ezra nodded slowly, uncertain, and the giant being pressed on. “Even now, your trials are not over. There will be more pain, more darkness, more loss… unless you chose to go now. The balance has been restored. You do not need to keep fighting; if you so chose, your fight can be over.”

For one very long moment, Ezra wanted to accept. The idea of rest—real rest, with no worry of when the next battle would be—was tempting. Then he remembered that Kanan and Anakin were right beside him, that Hera and the others were out there, that Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Rex and Kix had all been so worried last time he’d nearly died they hadn’t left the medbay until he did.

He couldn’t let them down.

Maybe it would have been easier to go, but it would also have been selfish, and he was already being selfish enough dragging his family back into the war-torn era before the Empire. Hadn’t the Bendu said something about balancing selfishness with selflessness last time he’d seen him?

Above him, the Bendu raised an eyebrow. “I see your choice is made.”

Ezra stared up at him, thinking. “If you knew what I was going to choose,” he asked, “why offer me the choice at all?”

“Because the choice had to be yours, Commander,” A new voice said from behind him, and Ezra scrambled to his feet, whirling around so he could face the new arrival.

“Charger?”

From the spot Obi-Wan had stood in real life, the clone sent him a cheeky grin. “I see you’ve been getting up to your usual trouble.”

“How—What—” Ezra started, then shook his head and decided it didn’t matter the how or why. He was here. That was what was important. Rushing forward, Ezra wrapped his arms around the clone, startling him. “You’re an idiot,” he groused, and Charger laughed.

“Missed you too, _vod’ika.”_

Reluctantly, Ezra let go and looked him up and down. He looked fine—normal, exactly the way Ezra would remember him. Well, except for the nightmares where he would see Charger’s dead eyes staring at him accusingly.

The Charger in front of him, however, was giving him that insolent smirk that had grown so familiar. There was no hint of blame in his eyes, or anger in his stance. He was just… Charger.

“Are you real?” Ezra blurted, and Charger’s smirk broadened as he punched Ezra in the shoulder. “Ow! Okay, okay, you’re real, I just… had to be sure.”

“I know the feeling,” the clone said, then looked over his shoulder at the Bendu. Ezra was surprised he hadn’t left already. “I’ve got it from here, big guy. Go on.”

The Bendu huffed. “You will tell him, yes?”

Charger nodded, waving him off. “Of course. And I’ll pass on the messages. Now shoo.”

Ezra watched in some amusement as Bendu rolled his massive eyes before disappearing in a cloud of dust, then he turned back to Charger. “Tell me what? And what messages?”

“Well, there were a couple Jedi Masters who wanted to talk to you, but I obviously overruled them seeing as you actually would have wanted to talk to me.”

“That depends,” Ezra teased, “Who was it?”

Charger gestured to a nearby boulder and together they walked over, Ezra plopping himself down on one end while Charger sat down on the other. “General Windu and Master Qui-gon Jinn.”

Wincing, Ezra asked, “What’d they want to say,” unsure if he actually wanted to know.

“Well, General Windu told me to tell you that he didn’t forgive you for sassing him when Obi-Wan went undercover, even if you are his Great-Grandpadawan. Of course, I’m leaving out a few of his more… choice words.” Ezra laughed, startled at the idea of the strict Jedi cursing, and Charger grinned before continuing, “Master Jinn didn’t actually tell me what to tell you, he just said you’d know.”

Ezra nodded. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Master Jinn was going to tell him, and it made something warm flare up in his chest. Resting his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees, he asked, “What was it Bendu wanted you to tell me?”

“A couple things,” Charger said, copying Ezra’s pose. “First, even though you’re going back, you’ve still been through some pretty traumatic events. This means both physically and mentally. You’re going to have a long time to recover, and the path won’t necessarily be as straightforward as you want it to be.”

Slightly bewildered, Ezra asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a sigh, Charger threw his hands up. “Hell if I know. That’s just what the Bendu said to tell you. Your guess is as good as mine. As for the other thing… The battle on Mustafar wasn’t the last. They got away.”

Ezra felt his eyes widen. “What—how?”

“Bad luck on our part and plenty of luck on theirs. Point of it is, you’re going to need to recover as soon as possible to help defeat them. I hate to put that kind of pressure on you…” Charger trialed off, for once looking a bit helpless. “But if you don’t, the Sith win.” He looked Ezra in the eye. “All the Sith.”

Clenching his jaw, Ezra looked away. “I understand,” he said quietly.

“Good.”

They sat in silence for a minute or two… or maybe an eternity. The color of the sky was no longer changing, and the sun wasn’t making its scheduled appearance, so it was hard to judge, but Ezra somehow knew that time was passing. Not normally, that was for sure. But then, he was pretty sure this place was literally part of the Force… or part of his mind. It was a toss-up which it was. Either way…

“When do you have to leave?” Ezra asked, and Charger sent him a sympathetic smile.

“Now, actually. I just wanted to see you one more time and make sure you were doing okay. Hopefully you won’t be seeing me for a very long time after this.”

Ezra nodded, and as Charger stood and started to walk away, he scrambled to his feet. “Charger!” The clone stopped and turned. “Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry I didn’t say it, but… I mean it. Thank you. Without you… I wouldn’t have made it as far as I did.”

Charger’s smile broadened. “Yes, you would have. You’re stronger than you know, especially with your friends around you.” With that, he saluted and walked away, disappearing into the coral forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the conversations with Old Ben and Bendu in my notes since before I started publishing this series, and this felt like the right place to put them. I'm just glad I could finally get them out into the world because they've been sitting in my notes staring at me accusingly for well over a year and a half now.


	19. We Only Notice Light When Darkness Crashes Against It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who just got a positive Covid test! If you guessed me, you'd be wrong, but it was one of my housemates. So now we're all under quarantine. Yippee.

“You sure about this, Master?” Anakin asked, and Obi-Wan had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

To be fair, the plan was risky, and had already nearly fallen through a number of times, so Anakin’s doubt wasn’t exactly unfounded. However, it hadn’t fallen through yet, so Obi-Wan was inclined to follow it.

“Yes, Anakin, I’m sure. Now, be quiet and get to your position.”

Anakin grumbled but left, cloaking himself in the Force. Obi-Wan knelt on the walkway, looking down at where Dooku and Grievous—a surprising addition, but not an unwelcome one—were quietly discussing something, the cyborg pacing back and forth while Dooku watched apathetically.

He was too high up to tell what they were saying, but he knew what they were discussing—the third person down there. Ventress was watching them in amusement, her hands on her hips as she waited for them to finish their private conversation.

A minute or so later, Dooku stepped forward, looking at Ventress with clear disdain. “Unfortunately, Ventress, you outlasted your usefulness. We have no need for your continued existence.”

“Pity,” she drawled, before igniting her ‘sabers and falling into her opening stance.

Dooku sneered. “You think you can take the two of us alone?”

Obi-Wan took that as his cue. Dropping his outer robe on the walkway behind him, he jumped down, landing behind Dooku in a crouch. Dooku had his ‘saber out in an instant, but Obi-Wan was faster, getting his ‘saber out and blocking Dooku’s strike before anyone else could even react to his presence.

Grievous made a noise of surprise, but before he could pull out his stolen lightsabers, Ventress was in his face, throwing him off balance with a series of aggressive swipes. Obi-Wan couldn’t pay too much attention to her duel, though, because he was having to put all his energy into not being skewered.

Dooku was pulling out every trick he knew, forcing Obi-Wan to give ground. Slowly backing up, Obi-Wan made Dooku fight hard for every inch, making sure that Dooku was at least wearing himself out slightly on Obi-Wan’s defense.

Ducking another sweeping blow, Obi-Wan threw Dooku back with the Force, then abruptly changed tack and pulled him forward. Dooku stumbled, and Obi-Wan attacked, forcing Dooku to give ground and putting him on the defensive. That wasn’t what Dooku was used to, and it showed. He stuck with his Makashi style of fighting rather than switching to Soresu, to Obi-Wan’s surprise, but the form wasn’t suited well for combating the Ataru moves Obi-Wan was breaking out. He was managing, but only barely.

Dooku faltered for a split second, and Obi-Wan locked blades with him. “Now!” He shouted, and suddenly the rafters above were swarming with men from the 212th and 501st. A black blur dropped from the ceiling above them, and suddenly Dooku found himself going up against Anakin as well as Obi-Wan.

With a scowl, Dooku shot forward, attacking Anakin with a grace that would have been awe-inspiring if he hadn’t been trying to kill them. His speed, however, wasn’t quite what it had been when the duel had started.

That had been the plan, and Obi-Wan was glad it seemed to have worked. But Dooku was still a formidable fighter. He was parrying and attacking with skill, almost making it look easy if it weren’t for the fact that there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and that he was faltering every once in a while. It was always slight, too slight to take advantage of, but it was enough for Obi-Wan to press the advantage.

Dooku riposted and scored a slight hit on Anakin’s side, and Anakin yelped and spun away, attacking again with renewed aggression. The Force swirled heavily around him, but aside for helping his reflexes, he wasn’t using it to do much. Obi-Wan wanted to tell him to use it and stop playing around, when he realized that Anakin was holding back for a reason.

Maybe he thought he was going to start sliding into the Dark Side if he gave into it, or maybe that much power just scared him. Or maybe, Obi-Wan considered as Anakin backhanded Dooku across the face with his metal arm, he was punishing Dooku for the pain he’d inflicted on Ezra.

Realizing that that was probably the case, Obi-Wan darted forward, intercepting a strike aimed at Anakin’s head, and kicked Dooku back. “Anakin! Go help Ventress!” He called.

Anakin snarled but obeyed, backflipping over to where Ventress and Grievous had been dueling. Obi-Wan turned his attention back to Dooku, who sneered and lifted his hands. Recognizing the prelude to Force lightning, Obi-Wan raised his ‘saber, catching the purple bolts on his blade as he pushed himself closer to Dooku.

The storm of lightning subsided, and Obi-Wan slashed at chest height, only to realize Dooku wasn’t there any longer. Instead, he’d sidestepped, and when Obi-Wan extended himself for the strike, Dooku attacked, catching his side with the tip of his ‘saber. Obi-Wan hissed and stepped back, stumbling slightly as he clapped a hand over the burning wound.

Across the room, Cody and Rex were leading their men against the gathered droids, taking them down and slowly gaining ground against them. Anakin and Ventress were playing off of each other well as they attacked Grievous in unison, Anakin going for power while Ventress went for speed. It kept Grievous off his guard, and Obi-Wan saw out of the corner of his eye as Anakin took off one of Grievous’s arms, sending it flying over the ledge of the platform they were on.

Obi-Wan spared the time to grin at Dooku, taunting him, and Dooku lunged forward, stabbing at Obi-Wan’s legs, then fainting and nearly taking off Obi-Wan’s ‘saber hand. Obi-Wan blocked, then dodged, knocking Dooku back a step with the Force.

Dooku jumped over his head, switching positions so that now Obi-Wan had his back to the ledge and could see the battle behind him. He tried hard not to get distracted by it, but as Ventress scored a hit across Grievous’s leg, he was hard pressed not to watch.

Dooku was not as distractible. He attacked furiously, and Obi-Wan was beginning to regret sending Anakin to help Ventress. He had to give ground, backing up until the edge of the platform was only a few feet behind him.

“Master!” He heard Anakin call, but he was too busy parrying another blow to see where Anakin was or what had caught his attention.

Dooku snarled in his face and with a flurry of blows, made him back up another step, then another, then suddenly Obi-Wan was right on the edge. Desperately, he tried to clear himself more room, but Dooku kicked him back that extra step, and he was slipping, nearly dropping his saber as he grabbed hold of the edge.

Instead of finishing him off then and there, though, Dooku turned and raced off. Obi-Wan grunted as he tried to pull himself up to go after him, but without something to brace his feet against and winded as he was, he had to struggle a bit before a hand was suddenly in his field of vision, grabbing his arm and pulling him to safety.

Obi-Wan nearly collapsed on top of Anakin, panting hard. Dooku’s second wind had knocked a lot out of him, but he patted the closest part of Anakin he could reach—his leg—and gestured after Dooku. “Go. Stop him.”

“Are you sure?” Anakin asked, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, looking around the platform to see Ventress severing the last of Grievous’s hands and cutting him in two along his waist in two quick, clean cuts. She had that well in hand, so Obi-Wan nodded, gesturing for him to go.

Before Anakin got more than a step in that direction, though, a Sheathipede-class shuttle was lifting off, Dooku’s presence on board. Obi-Wan heaved a sigh as it made off into the atmosphere, hearing but not really paying attention as Anakin ordered the fleet that had jumped into the system when Anakin had joined the battle to shoot the shuttle down. He knew it probably wouldn’t do any good. He had a sick feeling in his stomach that Dooku was going to escape, and turn up again somewhere later to wreak havoc on their lives.

_______

Ashla looked up from her seat in the lobby of the hospital as Barriss walked in, looking uncertain. Standing, she waved the Mirialin over. As she approached, Ashla pulled out her comm and sent a message to Kix, informing him that Barriss was here. Hopefully, he’d kick Hera out. She didn’t need to be there for this procedure, especially since her presence might disturb Barriss from what she was going to be doing.

“Everything alright?” Barriss asked as soon as she was close enough to be heard without having to raise her voice.

Ashla nodded, keeping an eye on Rex, Chopper and Sabine as she gestured for Barriss to follow her. None of them moved, although Rex kept a careful eye on the two of them, his hands near his hips where his blaster were usually holstered as his eyes followed Barriss.

Ahsoka and Kallus—and it was still strange for her to be working alongside him, because last time she’d checked, he’d been trying to capture or kill them all—were on babysitting duty, currently, while Hera was with Ezra.

It reassured her to know where everyone was, after two and a half years trapped on a Sith planet with no way of knowing how they were or what was happening. It had been the not knowing that had nearly driven her mad. She’d been able to tell when Ezra was hurt, vaguely, but the others? Especially after she felt Kanan die?

She’d known then that her knowledge of the future had been exhausted and they were in uncharted territory. Then Ezra had disappeared from the Force and she’d feared the worst. Now, though, now everyone she cared about was on one planet, and she could reassure herself at any time that they were indeed alive, and in most cases, alright.

They reached the hallway that led to the elevators, and Barriss let out a breath. “I don’t think your friend likes me.”

“He’s protective,” Ashla explained. “He spent a good long while thinking I was dead, and now he doesn’t really trust anyone else with my safety.” That was pushing it, but after the emotional reunion they’d had a week prior, she knew it wouldn’t be too far off. Rex had always been protective, but now? It was bound to be ten times worse than usual.

Barriss just sighed. “It’s because I hurt you, isn’t it,” she asked, and Ashla looked over at her, evaluating. It only took a minute to come to the conclusion that Barriss had figured it out, making her the second female to do that, while none of the men who hadn’t already known about the time travel had guessed.

She smiled sadly. “It was a long time ago, and I’ve forgiven you. You actually saved my life by doing so, so I guess the Force does all things for a reason.”

“Even if one of those things is a person betraying someone she loves?” Ashla looked over at Barriss, and the younger woman blushed. “I mean, um—”

Ashla laughed as she pressed the call button for the elevator. “That would have been nice to know twenty-one years ago.” The doors slid open and Ashla ushered Barriss in ahead of her. “But, yes. Even that. If you hadn’t done what you did, I would have been at ground zero when everything went down. So would Rex. But I don’t think he sees it that way.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize that was him.”

Ashla looked over at her as she hit the button for the right floor. “Why not?”

Barriss shrugged, still looking uncomfortable. “He’s so… old. I thought it had only been twenty or so years, you just said so, but he looks like he’s…”

“In his sixties or seventies?” Ashla finished for her, smiling when she nodded. “It’s the accelerated aging. It never turned off, so he… probably won’t live more than another decade, at the most.”

It hurt to admit that out loud. She couldn’t imagine a galaxy without Rex. He’d been her constant companion for so many years. Even when they hadn’t been together, she’d known he was out there, and she’d been able to take comfort in that fact. But now…

Barriss’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “That’s awful. I’ll talk to Master Che, and see if we can’t do something about it.”

“It might be better to bring it to the Senate,” Ashla said as the elevator slid to a halt. “If we could convince the Kaminoans to give us access to their research, we could figure it out in half the time.”

Barriss nodded, then asked, “So, why did you ask me here instead of Master Che or one of her students?”

Ashla debated her answer for a moment before saying slowly, “I guess… because you needed it. You were at Mustafar, but you weren’t able to do anything for Ezra when he initially got hurt, and now you have the chance to do something. I wanted to let you… redeem yourself, in your eyes at least.”

Barriss let out a heavy breath. “Thank you, Ahsoka. It means more to me than you realize.”

Knowing what she meant, Ashla just smiled, setting a hand on Barriss’s shoulder. She knew this was also Barris needing an opportunity to ‘redeem’ herself for her failures from the other timeline, and that knowledge just reinforced Ashla’s opinion that this had been the right choice.

Kix was waiting for them at the door to Ezra’s room. “I just sent Hera out. Hopefully she’ll catch up on some sleep while you’re doing this, I think the most she’s gotten since she got here is when she falls asleep at Ezra’s bedside.”

“She’s worried,” Ashla said simply. “Her son is in critical condition, though hopefully that’ll change today.” She squeezed Barriss’s shoulder before leading her into the room.

Ezra was still hooked up to all those infernal machines, and he still looked awful, but Ashla could swear he felt more present than he had been last time she’d been here. Reaching out, she brushed her consciousness against his, but was mildly disappointed by the lack of reaction. Reminding herself that he was comatose and thus couldn’t react, she settled into the chair by his side, which was still warm from when Hera had used it.

Barriss hesitated in the doorway, but at Kix’s pat on the shoulder, she entered slowly. “He looks so young.”

“He’s only twenty,” Ashla reminded her, and Barriss gave her a look.

“I’m only nineteen,” she returned, and immediately Ashla blinked.

“Really?”

Barriss nodded, then turned to face Kix. “I’d appreciate it if you and the man behind the window gave us some time. I can work with Ahsoka, but the two of you are distractions.”

Ashla could feel Kanan’s disgruntled stare at the back of Barriss’s head, and she shot him a look through the glass. “She’s right, Kanan. Go. We’ll let you know as soon as we’re done.”

She waited until his presence faded, growing more distant, before turning to Kix. “Just out by the nurses’ station, that’s as far as we need you to go. We’ll hit the call button if we need anything or if anything happens.”

Kix nodded and left, putting up even less of a fight than Kanan had. That spoke to the level that they were worried. They’d risk a stranger relatively unsupervised in Ezra’s room at the promise it’d help him.

Ashla turned to Barriss, who nodded and took a steadying breath before wiping her hands on her skirt. “I’ll need your help,” she said quietly, and Ashla nodded.

“Of course, whatever you need.”

_______

Senator Organa was rubbing his forehead as Senator Orn Free Taa finished speaking. Yoda sent him a compassionate look. The Alderaanian senator was one of the few he actually liked, and believed wasn’t in politics for his own personal gain.

“For the last time, Senator,” Bail gritted out, “We are not debating whether or not to continue the war. The war will continue as long as the Separatists are willing to go down fighting. We are debating whether or not to lessen the powers wielded by the office of the Chancellor.”

“Which needs its powers as long as the war is continuing to be fought!” Another senator, one whose name escaped Yoda, exclaimed, slapping the table.

They were seated in a conference room in the Senate building, about two dozen senators and Yoda, assigned to play mediator. The senators were divided nearly equally into two parties, for and against the lessening of said emergency powers, each party on one side of the table, while Yoda sat at the head of the table in his hoverchair. Bail was leading the ‘for’ party, while Senator Nix Card led the ‘against’ party. The debate up until this point had been long and arduous, and somehow Yoda knew it wasn’t even close to being over.

With a heavy sigh, Yoda tapped his gimmer stick on the table, drawing the attention of the senators gathered. “Agreed, we are, that the war is not over. Disagree, we do, about whether the Chancellor, leading the war, should be.”

“Well put, Master Yoda,” Senator Mothma said serenely. “Gentlemen, ladies, and others: we are not soldiers. We do not have the experience on the battlefield that would lend itself to leading a war. What we do have is intimate knowledge of our homeworlds, their systems, and their resources. Here is what I suggest: As senators, and potentially as Chancellor, we focus on what we should have been focusing on: diplomacy, relief efforts, and coordinating with the military.

“I understand that many of you would prefer that the military answer directly to the Senate, but as has already been pointed out, we know next to nothing about waging a war. Instead, I propose that a new position be opened up in the military, one that a thousand years ago existed and only fell into disuse after centuries of peace: the office of Supreme Commander. They would report to and coordinate with the Chancellor, but not be subject to their commands, a separate entity altogether.

“Many of the powers that the office of Chancellor now holds would be given over to this new position, thus ensuring that while those powers are still in play, they are not held solely by one person. I believe that would relieve most of the worries of those present?”

Around the table, senators nodded slowly, eyes bright as they considered the proposition. Only a few looked disappointed, namely Senator Free Taa, who looked slightly crestfallen at the idea that all those powers would not be in his grasp. Yoda was neither blind nor stupid; he knew everyone would be making a play towards the Chancellor’s seat, mostly so they could wield the considerable power currently held by that seat for their own political agenda. This, at least, would lessen the number of bids for the seat and make the final outcome more unanimous, and thus less contentious.

Yoda nodded, stroking his chin. “Agree, I do, with Senator Mothma’s proposal. An acceptable compromise, this is.”

One of the senators on Card’s side huffed. “You’re just saying that because it would mean a Jedi would get that position, giving you more power over our military.”

“Not necessarily,” Senator Chuchi said smoothly. “I would like to request an addendum: the leader of the Jedi become a third party, equal to the Chancellor and Supreme Commander. They would help with both military affairs and diplomatic and relief efforts, while being separate from both the politics and military itself.”

“That would strip away their military power,” another senator protested. “Without them, the war effort will grind to a halt. We’ll lose all the progress we’ve made thus far!”

“No,” Bail insisted, looking quite taken with the idea. “They would still be helping the military. They can work alongside the army, making plans with the people promoted to general to replace them, or they can help with relief efforts, however the individual Jedi want to approach the galactic situation.”

“But that would leave thousands of officers’ positions open, between the generals’ positions and the position of Supreme Commander, and we don’t have enough officers to fill them all!” Senator Aang protested, and Yoda felt a stirring of something dangerously close to anger in his chest.

“Plenty of officers, we have, if allow the clones to hold such positions, we do.” He managed to keep the anger out of his voice, but he was sure to glare in the Roonan senator’s direction. “Competent, they are. More experience, they have, then the natural-born officers. Trained in battle tactics, they have, since before they were old enough to hold blasters. No other purpose have they been given. Propose, I do, that a clone be given the position of Supreme Commander, and any other position for which most suited, they are.”

“But they are clones,” Senator Free Taa groused, looking mildly disgusted. “They are hardly better than battle droids.”

Bail looked thunderous. Yoda wondered if it wasn't his friendship with Obi-Wan that had him so up in arms in defense of the clones. Whatever the reason, he was glad for it. His men didn’t deserve to be slandered like that.

“They are living beings,” Bail said through gritted teeth. “They deserve the respect and dignity that comes with that status, and doubly so for their sacrifices throughout the war. If you cannot see that, you are no better than the Separatists who are cutting them down.”

Immediately shouts of anger echoed throughout the room, senators leaping from their seats and jabbing accusing fingers in every direction, yelling everything from insults to requests for the others to settle down.

Yoda harrumphed quietly and watched them battle it out. No better than younglings, they were. After a few minutes, he decided they weren’t going to stop without an order, so he reached out, lifted the table a few inches, and dropped it again, resulting in a resounding thud that drew everyone’s attention to him.

Casting a caustic look around the table, Yoda tapped his gimmer stick against the tabletop. “Sit down. Nothing, does arguing like younglings solve. Now, while agree I do, that the issue of the clones’ rights, solved, must be, at present, gathered to discuss the powers of the Supreme Chancellor, we are. Until another time, will the issue of clone rights wait. Agreed, are we, that Senator Mothma’s proposal holds merit?”

Reluctantly, the senators gathered nodded their heads. “We’ll propose it to the Senate as a whole at the next session, in two days’ time,” Bail said, smoothing his tunic. “Until then, may I suggest a committee be formed to discuss the clones’ rights? That way we can be ready to install an officer, whether nat-born or clone, as soon as possible if and after the vote has passed.”

More nods. Yoda sighed. Honestly, this was more trying than dealing with younglings. At least you expected the younglings to bicker endlessly. Adults ought to know better.

“Adjourned, this meeting is,” He said tiredly. “Until the next time, Senators.”

_______

Ventress was reluctant, but after Obi-Wan pointed out that Jaesa was already on board, she agreed to come on board the  _ Resolute.  _ “Just so long as we’re clear that this is a visit. We’re not going anywhere with you do-gooders.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied as he stepped into the nearby LAATi, Anakin right behind him. “We wouldn’t dream of dragging you back to Coruscant. In fact, that’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Ventress narrowed her eyes, but followed them aboard the transport. “Exactly what do you want to discuss, Kenobi?”

The transport took off as Obi-Wan considered his answer. “Well, in light of recent events, we do need to discuss the outstanding warrant for your arrest. Add Jaesa into the mix, and I’m sure you’ll want to discuss your options going forward, even if you decide not to take our assistance.”

Ventress scoffed slightly, but didn’t say anything. She was thinking about it, though, Obi-Wan could tell, and that was progress. Well, anything was progress when compared to how the vast majority of their previous encounters had gone. Obi-Wan stood by what he’d said to Ezra, though: she had such potential, and he believed she could and would come back from it.

All too soon, the LAATi was landing in the hanger of the Resolute, and Ventress looked around appreciatively. “Now that I’m in here without trying to blow it up or sabotage it, I have to admit, it’s not a bad ship.”

Anakin smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Skywalker, it’s not as impressive as some of ours,” Ventress said, stepping out of the transport with all of her usual grace. “Now, where’s the scamp?”

Knowing she meant Jaesa, Obi-Wan gestured toward the elevators, letting Anakin take the lead as this was his ship. Obi-Wan kept pace with Ventress, though, staying beside her rather than penning her in from behind. He didn’t bother pointing out areas of interest as they went, knowing this wasn’t a tour, and that Ventress would probably pick them out anyway. She had a tactical mind, after all, which had helped her get this far in the war.

The elevator ride itself was awkward, with Anakin shifting every five seconds and very carefully not looking at Ventress. Obi-Wan just watched him trying not to be tense with her so close and nearly died laughing multiple times on the short trip up. He was not good at playing it nonchalant.

“So…” Anakin said when the silence built up to a breaking point. Right as Ventress shot him an exasperated look, the door opened, and they stepped out onto the bridge.

“‘Sajj!” Jaesa called, scrambling around the holotable, where she’d been watching with Jesse, who’d appointed himself babysitter, as the battle progressed. “That was so cool! You’ve gotta teach me how to do that!”

“How to do what?” Ventress asked, looking a bit annoyed. Obi-wan could see the fondness underneath it, though… just hidden very, very deep.

Jaesa rolled her eyes. “How to take down the bad guys, duh!”

Obi-Wan bit back a chuckle as Ventress leveled a flat look at the young girl. “I’m a bad guy,” She said, like it was obvious, and Jaesa sent her her own flat look.

“No, you’re not. You saved my life, and you helped the good guys. You’re a good guy.”

Ventress stood there with her mouth open for a solid minute, clearly trying to come up with some sort of argument. Obi-Wan shared an amused look with Anakin, who silently held his hand out for Jaesa to high-five. Happily, she complied, slapping his hand with an inordinate amount of glee, only to scowl and rub her hand when she realized she’d just hit metal as hard as she could.

“Moving on,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing for Ventress, Jaesa, and Anakin to gather around the holotable, “I wanted to discuss the warrant for your arrest.”

Jaesa sent Ventress a scared look, and without looking her way, Ventress put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m not going in quietly.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “If I have my way, you won’t be going in at all.”

“Obi-Wan has this idea in his head that you’re going to clean up your act a bit,” Anakin said, the edge of sarcasm in his voice letting Obi-Wan know exactly what he thought of that.

“Maybe not clean it up, exactly, I don’t expect you to win Citizen of the Year any time soon,” Obi-Wan said, “But I certainly don’t think you’re going to go back to your murdering-every-Jedi-I-come-across ways. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have called us in for help.”

Ventress raised an eyebrow in amusement. “I might have, I just would have told Dooku and Grievous to expect you. Spring the trap on you, instead of them.”

Inclining his head to cede the point to her, Obi-Wan pointed out, “But you didn’t, which tells me you’re not looking to go back to Dooku any time soon.”

“Not that he’d take you at this point,” Anakin added.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything in response, Jaesa cut in. “Who’s Dooky?”

Anakin started laughing, nearly falling over. Obi-Wan and Ventress were only marginally better, shaking with mirth as they chuckled, but then their eyes met, and they quickly sobered, because this was just… weird. Anakin kept laughing.

“Dooku, little one,” Obi-Wan explained, trying to keep a straight face as Anakin actually had to step out of the room to get a hold of himself, “is one of the bad guys Asajj and I were fighting.”

“You and Skywalker fought him. And let him get away.” Ventress’s correction warranted little more than an eyeroll.

“Anyway,” Obi-Wan said, trying to get them back on track, “I hardly see a need to arrest you again. In fact, I’ll put forward a motion to absolve you of past crimes in light of recent developments.”

Ventress narrowed her eyes. “That’s awfully thoughtful of you. And not likely going to happen.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. “The Senate and the High Council will both insist that you have someone vouch for you and keep an eye on your activities for the next while, and I was planning on volunteering.”

Jaesa perked up. “I’ll get to see you more?”

As Obi-Wan nodded, Ventress sighed. “I’m not getting out of this, am I.” It was phrased like a question but her tone of voice made it clear she wasn’t asking.

“No, you’re not,” Obi-Wan said brightly, and she sighed again.

“Fine. Do I need to come back to Coruscant with you for this to work?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, I’ll get back to you when I’ve approached the Council about it. Until then, just… keep tracking Dooku or hunting bounties. Something that’ll keep you out of trouble with the Republic. Once they’ve let you off the hook, you’ll be free to pursue whatever you want, barring the death or maiming of Republic citizens or Jedi.”

Jaesa scoffed. “We’re not going to do that, right, Asajj?” Out of any other seven-year-old’s mouth, that might have sounded innocent, but Jaesa said it so pointedly, it was impossible to mistake her meaning. She’d throw a tantrum before she let them be bad guys.

Obi-Wan smirked as Ventress begrudgingly agreed before sending Jaesa to go “terrorize the clones.” Once the girl had run off, Ventress sighed. “I blame you for foisting her upon me.”

Raising an eyebrow, Obi-wan reminded her, “It was you who insisted she go with you.”

“Hm,” Ventress didn’t say anything further for a moment, then frowned. “Where’s Skywalker?”

“Good question,” Obi-Wan turned his focus inwards and followed his old training bond with Anakin to the younger Jedi’s bunk. “Probably on a call with his Padawan.” Or Padme. It was a toss-up.

Ventress sighed. “I’ll go supervise the scamp. I’ll let you know when we’re leaving.”

_______

When Kix told them they’d taken Ezra off the ventilator and he’d been able to breathe fine on his own, Hera nearly collapsed into the seat into the waiting room. The relief coupled with the exhaustion of being awake for nearly forty-eight hours was enough to make her knees weak and she couldn’t help the soft sob that crept out of her throat.

“He’s okay?” She asked, her voice shaking.

Kix hesitated a moment before clarifying, “His lungs have healed to the point where we’re no longer worried about it. We still have to worry about the neurological damage due to the hypoxia. But, yes, in terms of his recovery, this is a good sign.” His comm beeped, and he sighed, checked it, and muttered, “I’ll be right back.”

Hera sat still for a moment, trying to calm her racing thoughts, but nothing was working. Ezra was breathing on his own. The doctors would be able to bring him out of the coma soon. During the last seizure, the one that had sent him into cardiac arrest for a good three minutes, she’d been terrified that this was it, that she had lost her son, but now, now…

Time seemed to slow, and in a trance-like state, she stood, and slowly made her way toward Ezra’s room. She had to go up a floor, but the elevator ride passed in a heartbeat, and before she knew it, she was in front of the door, the glass of which was frosted over again.

Logically, she knew that there were probably doctors in there, making sure Ezra was comfortable and that his vitals were steady, but she wasn’t mentally there enough to realize that Kix would have told her if it was okay to go in. So without thinking, she palmed the door open, and froze.

Kanan was standing over Ezra’s bed, brushing a few errant strands of hair out of his sleeping face. His face was set in a tender expression, and he was leaning against the bed as he gently rested his hand on Ezra’s arm. He looked—well, he looked so wonderfully alive that for a moment, Hera could actually believe he was here. Then reality set in and time returned to its normal progression and she realized that she had to be hallucinating.

She took a step back, and that seemed to draw the Kanan look-alike’s attention. His head snapped up, his piercing gaze pinning her in place for a split second before his eyes widened in an expression that Hera knew so intimately well, if only it weren’t on this imposter’s face.

“Hera,” he whispered, and she scrambled to pull the blaster out of her boot.

“Who are you?” She demanded as she leveled the weapon at him, and he spread his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Hera, it’s me, I swear—”

She interrupted him by tightening her grip on her blaster. “No, you’re not him, you can't be him, I watched him die.” Her voice broke on the last syllable.

The Kanan look-alike’s face softened in another expression she knew well, one of empathy and maybe even love, and it looked so genuine she couldn’t help the tears that sprang to her eyes. “Hera, I’m so sorry… for everything. For leaving you, for not being there when Jacen was born, for not telling you sooner that I was back… I’m sorry.”

Slowly, Hera lowered the blaster, her heart pounding in her chest. It was impossible, and yet… “When I told you I loved you, the last time, what did you say?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “‘Must be the truth serum talking.’ As far as responses go, that wasn’t my best.”

The blaster shook in her grip. “Where did we first meet?”

“Gorse,” he answered immediately. “I heard your voice asking me for directions, and I knew I was a goner. Then I actually saw you later when I saved your life in that street fight, and I knew, I knew I would follow you to the edge of the galaxy.”

Without really thinking about it, she flicked the safety of the blaster on and lowered it. It was totally impossible, and yet… “Kanan?”

His shoulders slumped, and he answered softly, “It’s me, Hera. It’s me.”

Immediately a sob tore its way out of her throat and she dropped the blaster, racing across the room, throwing her arms around Kanan’s neck, and burying her face in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately wound around her waist, pulling her even closer to him. She could feel his breath against her cheek, and she sobbed again.

He was shaking too, but he kept quiet in an obvious attempt to let her have her moment. Pulling away slightly, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, then carried on down his jawline until she finally reached his lips. He melted into the kiss, reaching up to stroke her cheek as she reluctantly pulled away.

She met his eyes—once again that beautiful teal color she’d thought she’d imagined on top of the fuel pod—and managed a tearful smile. “I don’t know if I want to kiss you again or shove you off the building.”

“Do I get a vote?” Kanan asked, eyes twinkling slightly despite the conflicted look on his face. “Hera… Force, I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she silenced him by pressing a finger to his lips. “You don’t have to apologize, I would have done the same thing to make sure you all escaped.”

Kanan grimaced. “I’m glad it wasn’t you, though. I don’t think I’d have made it. I’m not as strong as you are.”

Hera scoffed lightly, tucking herself under his chin, staring at Ezra’s sleeping form as she whispered, “I just can’t believe you’re here.”

“Trust me, I’d love to give you an explanation, but…” She felt him shrug. “I don’t have a clue.”

She wanted to stay there, wrapped up in this dream and his arms, but her knees chose that moment to twinge painfully, bringing her back to herself. Kanan made a noise of surprise as he grabbed her before she could fall, and she looked up at him, sending him a grateful smile.

“And that would be your body’s way of telling you to rest,” Kanan said lightly as he lowered her into the nearby chair, then his smile softened and he reassured her, “Don’t worry, I’ll stay with him.”

She looked over at Ezra, still fast asleep, oblivious to what had just happened right in front of him, and she grabbed Kanan’s arm as he turned away, presumably to grab the other chair. “Does he know?” She whispered, nodding in Ezra’s direction, and Kanan nodded, grimacing as he grabbed the second chair and swung it around so he could sit on it.

“Him, Sabine, Zeb and Ashla—not to mention the entire team that went to Mustafar. I went with them,” he added, and Hera’s heart clenched in her chest, “So almost everyone.”

“Except me.” Hera said. She was a bit disappointed—no, hurt, she was a bit  _ hurt— _ that he hadn’t told her immediately, and she couldn’t figure out why.

Kanan’s grimace deepened. “And Rex, Kallus, Chopper, and Jacen—not that Jacen would understand who I am. I’m sorry, I should have told you as soon as you got here, I just… I didn’t know how, and Ezra was—is—hurt, so the focus should be on him getting better, and…”

Hera nodded, slowly understanding the real reason he hadn’t told her. “You felt guilty.”

Kanan sighed and spread his hands. “How could I not? I mean, I let myself die in front of you, I left you alone to raise Jacen, I practically abandoned our family, I know there must have been another way—”

Hera cut him off by putting a hand on his arm, reveling in the solidness of him under his shirt. “And even if there was, I don’t blame you. I never blamed you. I blamed myself.”

“Hera—” He started, and she cut him off again.

“No, you wouldn’t have been in danger if I hadn’t gotten myself captured, and… I’ve spent the last year and a half wishing I had told you sooner how I felt, wishing we had more time… It’s my fault we didn’t.”

Kanan shook his head. “No, it’s not your fault for getting captured. It’s the Empire’s. Just like it was their fault for firing on the fuel pod. And as for not having enough time…” He trailed off, giving her a small half-smile that was just so him she felt tears spring to her eyes again.

“We have time now,” She finished, then frowned in Ezra’s direction. “Well, later. Once he’s out of the woods.” Kanan sighed heavily, dragging a hand over his face, and Hera leveled a stern look at him. “Oh, no you don’t. This wasn’t your fault, either.”

Kanan gave her a guilty look, his eyes miserable. “You weren’t there, Hera. You didn’t see… We lost him, just before we got him onto the ship.  _ Lost him, _ lost him. I couldn’t feel him anymore, and… he was gone.” Hera clenched her jaw against the urge to interrupt and demand an answer as to how Ezra was here, now, and Kanan huffed as he explained, “It was Anakin who brought him back. I don’t even know how, but he saved Ezra’s life while I just sat there.”

If there had been any doubt left in Hera’s mind about whether or not this was Kanan, this string of self-recriminating statements would have washed them away. Hera squeezed his arm, whispering, “But you were there. And I know he’ll be grateful for that.”

Kanan sent her a soft smile, scooting his chair closer so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and breathed in his scent. Force, how she’d missed him. “Don’t go anywhere,” she murmured, and he squeezed her shoulders.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Hera hummed in contentment and let herself fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things: First, yes there is actually a senator named Aang in Clone Wars. I looked it up on Wookiepedia, so you can check yourself if you don't believe me. Second, Jaesa calling Dooku 'Dooky' was an inside joke as I'm constantly misspelling his name that way. Thirdly, Kanan and Hera's reunion! I'm terrible at writing romantic scenes, so I hope this lived up to your expectations!


	20. I Dig 'Til My Shovel Tells a Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you love this chapter as much as I do--I wrote it before I knew what the hell I was going to be doing with WWFF, so it's been in the works for a while. I obviously had to change a few things here and there as the characters decided to go off-script in the lead-up to it, but otherwise this chapter has been intact for the last year and.. probably about four months? So yeah, I like it a lot. Please enjoy!

Kanan didn’t want to leave the hospital, but Obi-Wan had insisted the Council was getting antsy, and Hera had reassured him that she’d comm him if anything changed, so to the Jedi Temple he went. Ashla came with him, giving him a sympathetic smile that might have made him feel better if he couldn’t see the bags under her eyes and the stress lines on her face. Force, the last four weeks had been a nightmare.

Obi-Wan and Anakin had been away for almost two weeks before they came back, reporting Grievous dead and Dooku in the wind. Ventress hadn’t come with them, despite being their contact who’d led them to the Separatist leaders, begging off to keep hunting Dooku down.

Kanan had spent most of the last three weeks at the hospital, never far from Ezra, even if they weren’t in the same room. Hera stumbling across him last week had been an accident, but he was glad she knew now. They still hadn’t told the other three, though, deciding that could wait until after Ezra woke up.

He’d been doing well, all things considered. He hadn’t had another cardiac event, but he’d had a few more seizures, which Kix had assured them was expected. Apparently, with the amount of brain damage he’d suffered, seizures, memory issues, and difficulty speaking were unavoidable. It might be worse than that, Kix had told them, it was just that those were some of the most common symptoms of going without oxygen for as long as Ezra had.

The rest of the Ghost crew had all been in the hospital for as long as they were allowed, but eventually the staff had started kicking all but the “overnight shift” out, and they would retreat back to the _Ghost_ until morning, when they would reappear in the hospital lobby and wait their turn to sit with Ezra. It wasn’t terribly efficient, nor was it beneficial to anyone’s sleep cycle, but Kanan knew they were all terrified that something would happen and they’d be too far away to do anything about it.

Not that there was anything that could be done now. Physically, Ezra had healed almost completely. It was just his brain that had the doctors and Kix worried. But since there was nothing Kanan could do, Ashla and Obi-Wan had insisted he come along with them to finally give their report of what happened on Mustafar to the Jedi Council.

In the lift up to the High Council chambers, Kanan sighed heavily, checking his comm for the millionth time since they’d left the hospital. There were no new messages, but that didn;t reassure him.

Next to him, Ashla nudged him, giving him a supportive smile. “He’ll be okay for a few hours.”

“I know, I know,” Kanan grumbled, even though he didn’t really believe that, “It’s just that Kix said they might be bringing him out of the coma soon, and I want to know as soon as they do.”

“I’m sure the Council will understand if you have to leave in the middle of the debrief to be with him,” she reassured him.

Kanan wasn’t so sure, and didn’t know why she had such faith in the Jedi Council after the numerous ways they’d failed her in the past—in their past—but he shrugged it off, checking his comm again one last time before turning it off and putting it away.

The doors slid open, and Kanan took a steadying breath before stepping out of the lift. Two Temple guards were on either side of the door to the Council chambers, and they ushered Ashla and Kanan through.

Obi-Wan looked up from his seat the moment they walked in, giving them a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked awful, sleep deprived and pale. But Kanan took some comfort by the fact that he was here. His hero worship of Obi-Wan had never died the way his hero worship of Anakin had, so his presence was still reassuring, even if he looked like osik.

Anakin was also waiting for them, standing in the middle of the room like he was being lectured. Kanan wasn’t surprised to see that three of the four Council seats were still empty, but he was somewhat surprised to see who’d filled the fourth.

Depa Bilaba watched them carefully as they came to stand beside Anakin, who was waved off to stand by the door by Yoda as Ashla and Kanan took their places. Kanan squirmed slightly under his former Master’s scrutiny, but otherwise kept his face neutral.

It was Obi-Wan who broke the silence. “Thank you for meeting with us today. I understand you would rather be at the hospital with your Padawan. Our deepest condolences, by the way. He should never have been hurt.”

Kanan nodded. “Thank you, Master Kenobi,” he said, figuring that in this setting , he'd better stick to formalities.

“We imagine that you have many questions,” Ashla said, clasping her hands behind her back. “We’ll do our best to answer them.”

Yoda hummed. “Mm, yes. Your names, please. For the record.”

Kanan exchanged a look with Ashla before clearing his throat. “Kanan Jarrus.”

“Ashla Tano,” Ashla said, and immediately, Kanan could feel the surprise radiating through the room, mostly from Anakin.

“Tano?” Anakin asked at the same time as Master Plo Koon, who, if Kanan remembered correctly, had been the one who’d found Ahsoka back when she was little.

Obi-Wan shifted in his seat, clearly hiding a smirk behind one hand. “Any relation to Ahsoka Tano?”

Kanan could have facepalmed. Ashla settled for sending a small glare his way. “Yes, we’re related, although I’m not entirely sure how to classify our relation.”

Yoda narrowed his eyes. “Jedi training, you both have. Masters of Soresu and Ataru, respectively, you are, yet no record is there, of either of you, and no memory of either of you, do I have.” He paused long enough to level a stern look at the both of them, and Kanan suddenly felt like he was back in the creche as Yoda added, “And remember every Youngling, I do.”

“We can only assume you were both trained in secret by Jedi,” Shaak Ti added from Kamino, “or you were taken in by rogue Jedi, especially given the fact that you both carry lightsabers. Lightsabers that, if I’m not mistaken, were built in the Temple. You must understand our concern.”

Exchanging another look with Ashla, Kanan knew they were on the same wavelength, and he sighed. “We do, but it is unfounded. We were both trained by Jedi, in the Jedi Temple, although I’m not surprised there is no record of us.”

“Although, for the record,” Ashla added, patting the weapons on her hips, “I did not build these ‘sabers in the Temple.”

“I did build mine here, though,” Kanan said. “Maybe this will answer some of your questions.” He pulled his ‘saber off his belt and tossed it gently to Master Bilaba, avoiding her eyes as she caught it deftly.

She examined it for a moment before shock rippled across her features. “This is Caleb’s lightsaber.”

Kit Fisto spoke up for the first time, frowning. “What does your Padawan have to do with this?”

“Nothing,” Kanan said with a slight smirk, “and everything.”

“That’s helpful,” Anakin grumbled. “Why do you have her Padawan’s lightsaber?”

Kanna snorted. In some ways, it was painful how much Anakin reminded him of Ezra, especially right now with Ezra in a coma. He could just see Ezra asking such a dumb and totally understandable question. “I believe I told you that I built that ‘saber. It’s mine.”

Ashla sighed. “What Kanan isn’t saying is that the both of us, and our friends and family, are from the future.”

_“A_ future,” Kanan corrected, “one that’s impossible now. I have Caleb’s lightsaber because I am Caleb Dume. I only changed my name after Emperor Palpatine executed Order Sixty-Six.” He looked around the room, taking in the shocked faces, and let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, now you can see why it’s impossible.”

“Wait,” Adi Gallia said, raising a hand and pointing at Kanan. “If you’re Caleb, then you’re…” she pointed at Ashla, and Anakin paled.

“Snips?”

Ashla smiled, but there was pain in her eyes as she answered, “Hello, Master. It’s been a while.”

As Anakin stumbled back, hitting the wall and looking like he was five seconds from fainting, Master Plo, who also looked shaken, asled, “How long, exactly?”

Simultaneously, Kanan and Ashla answered, “Twenty years,” then he added, “give or take a month or two.”

Master Mundi, shaking slightly in his seat, asked, “Order Sixty-Six was issued? The entire Order…?”

Kanan nodded grimly as Ashla said, “Almost everyone was killed. Of the people in this room, only three survived--and that’s not including myself and Kanan: Master Yoda, Master Obi-Wan, and Master Skywalker. The rest of the Council didn’t make it.”

Murmurs broke out across the room, every member of the Council looking pained, even Obi-Wan, who already knew all of this. Hearing it straight from a survivor’s mouth, though, that was different. Kanan carefully avoided looking at Master Bilaba, even though he knew she had to be watching him carefully.

Master Plo was the first one to say anything distinct. “‘Soka…” He looked for a moment like he was going to add something, but didn’t.

Kanan cleared his throat again, keeping his gaze firmly on Master Plo. He was safe, non-judgemental and clearly concerned, without having the obvious emotional ties that Master Kenobi or Master Bilaba did. “As far as I know, the three of you, Ahsoka, and myself were the only survivors, although I’m not sure…” he trailed off, looking over at Ashla. _Not sure Anakin counts,_ he wanted to say, but wasn’t sure Ashla was comfortable discussing that at this particular moment.

Sure enough, she shook her head slightly. “Not now. Let’s let them process this for a minute.”

They all looked like they needed it. Everyone, even Master Yoda, looked shaken. Master Fisto had his head in his hands, and was clearly controlling his breathing. When he reluctantly met Master Bilaba’s eyes, he realized she had tears in them. Her haunted expression was enough to make Kanan turn away.

Master Adi Gallia was opening her mouth a few times, like she was debating what to say next, while next to her, Shaak Ti had her eyes closed and was clenching the arms of her seat. Eventually, Master Gallia found her voice and asked, “How did you all end up here?”

“I’m not sure,” Kanan admitted. “Ezra said he and Ashla had a theory, but I wasn’t able to hear it.” Not before he’d been kidnapped by Sidious.

“It’s...complicated, but we’re fairly certain the balance of the Force itself sent us back,” Ashla said. “The destruction of the Order threw the balance of the Force into chaos; I can only imagine our presence in this time period was its attempt to correct itself.”

Shaak Ti inclined her head, looking contemplative. “An interesting theory.”

Ashla nodded, turning to the other Togruta. “One the balance of the Force itself has hinted at.”

“Spoken to you, it has?” Yoda asked, and Ashla shook her head, pressing her lips together.

“Not me, Ezra.”

Kanan grimaced. “Let me guess, the Bendu?”

Ashla gave him a small smile, clearly but silently apologizing for leaving him out of the loop on so many things. “Yes. And Ahsoka told both of us that the Father on Mortis hinted at it as well.”

Anakin stepped forward, seeming to regain his equilibrium for the first time since he’d found out Ashla was Ahsoka. “Wait, wait, wait, Ahsoka knew about this?”

This time, both Kanan and Ashla grimaced. This was one of the harder parts of finally coming clean: forcing everyone else to come clean at the same time.

It was Obi-Wan who replied, saying, “Don’t take it personally, Anakin. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to tell her about it if you met your future self and learned that the galaxy fell.”

Kanan’s grimace deepened. He had a feeling that if Anakin met Vader, he might not live to tell Ahsoka. He honestly wasn’t sure Anakin would win, and he knew Vader was the type of person who would kill his younger self. Anakin didn’t seem to like that answer anyway, scowling as he crossed his arms.

“Besides,” Ashla said, this time directing the statement directly to Anakin, “I had some things I needed her to do that she couldn’t if she wasn’t aware of the future, but the more people who knew, the greater chance that Palpatine would have discovered what we were up to.”

Master Fisto sighed, kneading his forehead. “You already knew who the Sith Lord was.”

“But you and the Senate never would have believed me without proof, and ‘I’m from the future’ wouldn’t exactly have held up in a court of law,” Ashla countered, and Kanan nodded.

“It’s also how we knew about the chips, and how Hera and the others have been able to help the planets affected by the war: because they knew which planets were in need of what.”

Another round of murmurs broke out across the room, and Yoda hummed. “Much to consider, we have. Time, we need, to decide what is to be done.”

Kanan and Ashla nodded. “Of course, Master,” Ashla said, bowing her head in deference.

“We should leave as well, Skywalker,” Master Bilaba said, standing. “I believe we are too close to this.”

________ 

The guards outside the door had vanished—Kanan wasn’t sure if Depa had somehow silently sent them away before they came out or if they’d been dismissed when the Council session began, but decided it didn’t matter. That left the four of the alone in the antechamber, eying each other, unsure how to start the conversation that needed to happen.

Anakin sank down onto one of the nearby benches, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t kriffing believe this…”

Ashla sighed. ”I’m sorry. I know this is a lot, and I wish there was a gentler way to tell you, but you deserve to know. I wasn’t about to keep this from you.”

“You tried,” Anakin said, looking up at her with a hurt look. “Ahsoka’s known for how many months? And you could have told me when you got to the Jedi Temple, but you didn’t.”

Ashla grimaced and sat down next to him, clearly careful to leave him some space. Kanan wasn’t sure how she could be so comfortable around him, when he felt like a million ant-flies were crawling up his back whenever Depa looked at him.

“We had bigger problems,” Ashla said, briefly lifting a hand like she was about to place it on Anakin’s shoulder, before dropping it back into her lap. “And I didn’t want you to be distracted going into the battle against Palpatine. As for before, when we told Ahsoka… she didn’t know who Palpatine was. I couldn’t tell her for the same reason I couldn’t tell you who I am: you were too close to Palpatine. If either of you had let anything slip, it wouldn’t have just been my life on the line. I had to think of the bigger picture.”

Her voice was gentle, but Anakin still grimaced, running his hand through his hair and tugging on it like that would help with the inevitable headache he was going to have. Kanan could sympathize. This had to be rough on him, finding out he was one of five known survivors, even though Kanan still thought that Vader didn’t count.

Kanan shifted on his feet, debating the merits of broaching that conversation with Anakin, but before he could, Depa spoke up. “I’m… not even sure where to begin.”

Kanan huffed a small laugh, crossing his arms. “If it makes you feel any better, neither do I.”

Depa looked at him, a small, sad smile lifting one side of her mouth. “You’re not the same inquisitive boy I know.”

“You can’t exactly blame him for that,” Ashla said, still in that gentle tone of voice she’d perfected. “It’s been a rough twenty years.”

Kanan huffed again, this time in agreement. “And I had most of my inquisitiveness beaten out of me by my Padawan.”

This time, Depa’s smile was broader, and a bit more smug. “Please tell me he’s as full of questions as you were.”

“He had more, if that was possible. I just did my best to answer them. And got a new appreciation for how patient you were with me.” Kanan’s answer made her laugh slightly, though she was still clearly in shock.

“Poetic justice at its finest,” she murmured, and Kanan managed a small smile, trying desperately not to think of Ezra lying on a hospital bed, surrounded by machines tasked with keeping him alive.

“Did you take on a Padawan?” Anakin asked Ashla, who shook her head.

“No. I was too busy, I didn’t feel it was right, and... Force-sensitive children were few and far between. There were a couple that I thought, maybe, but one of them already had a Master,” she said with a slight smile in Kanan’s direction.

Kanan spread his hands. “You know, there were times, especially at the beginning, where I would have gladly let you take over.”

Ashla’s smile faded slightly, and her eyes darted over to one of the windows. Understanding that she was looking toward the hospital, Kanan winced slightly. He wouldn’t trade Ezra for the world, now, but thinking back to how close he’d nearly come to not having the kid in his life at all…

“But it wouldn’t have been right,” Ashla said after a moment. “You two had already connected in a way that I could never hope to live up to.” 

“I mostly meant before I found out you were alive,” Kanan clarified, then, in an effort to move the conversation somewhere marginally less painful, asked, “Out of curiosity, who was the other person you thought about training?”

“Princess Organa.”

“Ah,” Kanan said, nodding. “I thought she might have been Force-sensitive.”

Ashla hummed in agreement. “We really need to catch up sometime. It’s been too long.”

Before he could think better of it, Kanan said, “Well, we both know whose fault that is.” He very carefully didn’t look at Anakin, but inclined his head slightly in that direction.

Ashla frowned. “Kanan…”

Kanan spread his hands. “Technically—”

Anakin interrupted before they could go too far into the semantics. “You two are speaking a different language, you know that?”

Kanan grimaced, suddenly aware that they’d been leaving Depa and Anakin both out of the conversation. Ashla, too, winced. “Sorry. We’re not trying to leave you two out, it’s just been… what, three years?”

“Three and a half,” Kanan corrected, nodding.

“What happened with Maul?” She asked, and immediately, Kanan heard Depa gasp sharply.

“You faced Maul?”

Kanan nodded. “About the same time she did, the second time. We had to work together to defeat a common enemy, but the moment they were defeated, he turned on us. You, uh, might have noticed this…” He gestured to the scar running across his eyes. “He gave it to me.”

Depa covered her mouth with a hand. “Caleb…”

Hearing his old name from her mouth hit him like a punch to the gut, especially with the amount of quiet horror in those two syllables. The last time he’d heard her voice saying his name, she’d been screaming at him to run.

Ashla broke through the silence. “I thought it was worse, honestly.”

He huffed, crossing his arms again. “It was. I spent the next couple of years blind. It healed right before… Ezra told you about what happened on Lothal, right?” He asked, realizing she probably wouldn’t know what he was talking about if he just said, “the explosion.”

“I saw it, actually. Force stuff,” she added at his confused expression.

“I hate that explanation,” he muttered, but before Ashla could go more into it, the door to the Council chambers slid open and Obi-Wan walked out.

Anakin sighed and sat back against the wall.“What, did they decide you’re too close to the situation, too? I mean, this does involve both of your Padawans.”

Kanan grimaced and opened his mouth to protest that label only to realize that he’d meant it playfully, and he shut it again, smirking slightly as Obi-Wan folded his arms inside the sleeves of his robe and raised an eyebrow at Anakin.

“Actually, they decided I’m biased because I already knew.”

Kanan looked over at Anakin’s face and snorted. Anakin’s mouth was hanging open, and he looked absolutely stunned.After a moment, he spluttered, “What? You too? Seriously? Let me guess, Rex, Fives, and Cody all know as well.”

“Rex and Cody do,” Obi-Wan said, smirking slightly.

Ashla nodded. “So does Senator Amidala.” Kanan fixed her with a look. She ignored him as she shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that, she’s smart. She figured it out.”

Realizing the others had made a similar expression—barring perhaps Master Bilaba, who clearly was feeling left out of the discussion—Kanan let Obi-Wan ask, “When?” before adding, “And how much does she know?”

“She worked it out when I handed her the evidence to get a warrant for Palpatine’s arrest,” Ashla said. “She just knows I’m from a future where the war ended badly. She doesn’t know… everything else.”

Kanan nodded. She didn’t know that Ezra was her son from an alternate timeline, that her husband was supposed to Fall to the Dark Side, that she was supposed to die in the ensuing chaos. That was a bit of a relief, and not just because of the selfish part of him that didn’t want Anakin or the senator to know about Ezra. It just got more complicated the more people knew.

Depa didn’t seem to have the same opinion. “What else is there?”

“A lot,” Kanan answered. “The galaxy was a mess. Economies collapsed, natural disasters went unaided, entire species were driven to the point of extinction. Our friend Zeb was one of the few Lasats to survive the massacre of Lasan. Twenty years is a long time for the galaxy to be under the rule of a Sith.”

With that gloomy statement, they fell into silence. Kanan was still avoiding Depa’s gaze, focusing instead out the window, where he could vaguely see the hospital between the skyscrapers. He’d forgotten just how big and how chaotic the city-planet was, but here, above it all, watching the endless streams of speeders and shuttles, it was impossible to forget.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Ashla, Kanan, why don’t you try to fill Anakin in a little bit? I believe Depa and I should talk.”

Glancing over at the two Council members, Kanan nodded, especially seeing the look on Depa’s face. Clearly she was lost, with no idea how to even act around him, or how to treat him. He felt much the same way, having no idea how to behave around his Master, despite having months to prepare for this moment. So he didn’t protest when Obi-Wan led her away by the elbow.

Anakin sighed as Kanan sank onto the seat next to him. “So why did Rex know when I didn’t?”

Kanan grimaced and looked over at Ashla, who had a similar expression on her face. “He found out from Ezra. When Ezra ended up alone on the _Resolute--_ don’t give me that look, Master, you know what I mean--he ended up confiding in the people he recognized: Ahsoka and Rex.”

“Ezra knew Rex?” Anakin asked in consternation, and Kanan nodded.

“You remember the group at the hospital? Old guy, white beard, bit of a potbelly? Don’t,” he added quickly, “tell him I said that.”

Anakin’s eyes bugged out a bit, and he managed, “That-That’s Rex?”

Ashla nodded, smiling. “Yup. He got old.”

Anakin snorted, then paused for a moment before asking, “Why weren’t you all together? From what I understand, some of them still don’t know you’re alive.” He looked over at Kanan, who sighed. This wasn’t exactly a comfortable question to answer.

“They don’t. It’s… complicated.”

Nodding, Ashla explained, “We were all in different corners of the galaxy when we got thrown back in time. Ezra was alone in Wild Space, Kanan and Sabine were on Lothal, Hera and the crew of the Ghost were flying through the Outer Rim, and I was on Malachor. We all ended up where we had been when we time-traveled, but none of us knew the others had time-traveled. We thought it was an isolated incident.”

Anakin groaned and kneaded his forehead. “Every time you say something, you leave me with more questions.”

“Sorry,” Ashla muttered, looking genuinely apologetic.

“You never apologize this much.” Anakin said tiredly, and Ashla smiled ruefully.

“I’ve never had to break it to you that I time-traveled from the future before,” she pointed out, which Kanan thought was a pretty good point.

He himself needed to apologize to Master Bilaba, and he definitely needed to explain himself to her. He wouldn’t be able to avoid her forever, nor did he want to. He needed to know that it was alright that he ran when she told him to, and she was the only one who could tell him that.

“Take your time,” Kanan said, “ask all the questions you want. The Council will probably be debating for the next couple of hours whether we should even be allowed into the Order.”

Ashla sighed. “Not that it matters if they don’t. We both know we’ll just keep doing what we would have done anyway.”

Kanan nodded, conceding that point to her. “True.”

Anakin finally seemed to catch up with the conversation, because he shifted toward Ashla, looking at her as he asked, “Okay, why were you on Malachor? If I’m remembering correctly, that’s a Sith planet.”

Grimacing, Ashla clasped her hands in her lap. “It is. We were looking for a way to defeat the Sith. We ended up defeating his minions--”

“Running into Maul—” Kanan put in.

“And then I got separated from Kanan and Ezra and they all thought I was dead for a couple of years.” Ashla finished, falling back to that breezy tone of voice that her younger self used when she needed to make light of something that was just a bit too much to handle.

Kanan nodded, then paused as a thought occurred to him. He’d been too busy and distracted before, but now… “You still need to tell me how you survived that. Between you-know-who and the explosion, you should have died.”

“I could say the same to you, minus the you-know-who,” Ashla responded.

Kanan dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Different circumstances. I only survived because of time-travel.”

“So did I,” Ashla smiled at him, a hint of teasing smugness in her eyes.

“What—” Kanan cut himself off with a shake of his head. “Okay, that is a conversation for later. When we don’t have to dance around _certain_ subjects.” He cut his eyes over to Anakin as he said it, making sure Ashla knew exactly what they were dancing around.

“Agreed.” Ashla turned back to Anakin. “Sorry, Master, you were saying?”

Anakin looked back and forth between the two of them, his brow furrowed slightly. “Who’s you-know-who?”

Kanan blinked. That's what he’d chosen to ask about? “Long story,” he said aloud, and Ashla nodded.

“And not one we’re going to get into now.” Ashla’s voice was firm, and Kanan knew that was that. They were not discussing Vader today.

Slowly, uncertainly, Anakin nodded. “Okay… If Order Sixty-Six was issued in your future, how did Rex not…” He trailed off, looking uncomfortable, and Ashla squirmed.

“He kind of did?” Kanan and Anakin both gaped at her. “I was able to get his chip removed before he did anything, though. He never hurt me.”

“He said he never turned on his general!” Kanan protested, unease that he’d been lied to coiling in his gut.

Ashla raised a hand soothingly. “And he didn’t. I wasn’t his general, he never turned on Anakin.”

Kanan made a noise of protest, trying to communicate that Anakin had turned on them, so that was hardly a fair statement. Ashla just stared him into submission, and he sighed, throwing up his hands in surrender.

“He didn’t turn on me?” Anakin sounded confused, his brow furrowing further.

Ashla shook her head. “You were on Coruscant, I was on Mandalore. Special assignment,” she explained simply, and Anakin nodded, seeming to accept that.

“Not that it mattered much,” Kanan said, “You survived Order Sixty-Six, but you were dead by the time… well, by the time I met Ahsoka--Ashla, rather--which was… four years ago?”

She met his questioning look with a contemplative one, stroking her chin as she did the mental math. Finally she nodded, though she added, “The math gets hard when you throw time-travel in.”

Kanan huffed a laugh in agreement, “I’m not even sure how old I technically am, or when my birthday is.”

Before they could go any further down that train of thought, Anakin asked quietly, “Did Padme make it?”

Over his head, Kanan exchanged a look with Ashla, who pressed her lips together. “…No,” she answered softly. “I’m sorry. She died the same day.”

Anakin nodded like he’d expected that, but he still looked pained, and Kanan’s heart, rather without permission, went out to him. He could only imagine how painful it would be to hear that Hera hadn’t made it out of one of the worst days in history.

“Do you know if—” Anakin started to ask, only to be cut off by the elevator doors sliding open.

Ahsoka stepped out of the elevator, spotted the three of them, and made a bee-line toward them, only giving Obi-Wan and Depa a wave as a courtesy. “What’s going on here?” She asked playfully. Anakin was staring at her like he’d seen a ghost.

“We decided to tell the Council about us,” Ashla told her, and Ahsoka nodded.

“Oh, okay. Thanks for the heads up,” She said genuinely.

Kanan rolled his eyes. “She should have phrased that differently. We already told the Council about us. And they know you know.”

Ahsoka paused, then heaved a sigh. This time, sarcasm was dripping off her tone as she said, “Oh, okay. Thanks for the heads up.”

Anakin scoffed. “You know, if either of us has the right to be mad, it’s me, because apparently your future self has been roaming around the galaxy fixing things and _you knew about it.”_

“Did they tell you the spiel about not wanting Palpatine to know so they couldn’t tell anyone?” Ahsoka asked, sitting down cross legged on the floor in front of them. “Because Ezra and Ashla both gave it to me--and honestly, I think they’re right. If Palpatine had found out you were on to him, he would have had plenty of leverage to keep you in line. The boys, me, Obi-Wan, Padme--especially Padme--if he threatened any of us, he probably could have turned you into his puppet. That’s assuming he wouldn’t just kill you outright.”

Anakin nodded along until she got to the part about the senator, then he turned red and spluttered, “Wha--What do you mean, especially Padme? We’re just friends.”

Kanan snorted. “Uh-huh. Just a word of advice that I recently learned from my friends regarding my one-year-old: sleep when the baby is asleep. You won’t get another chance.”

Anakin continued to sputter, and the girls both giggled, sharing identical looks of he’s-so-hopeless as Kanan smirked. He caught Obi-Wan and Depa looking over at them in curiosity, and waved them over. They approached warily, like they were afraid Anakin’s obvious embarrassment might be contagious, but before Kanan could offer an explanation, the door to the Council chambers slid open and Kit Fisto walked out.

“We’re ready for you.”


	21. But I Will Learn to Let You Go

Hera had to comm Kanan while he was in the middle of his meeting to let him know: they were waking Ezra up from his coma. Assuming he got out of it in the next couple of hours, his chances were much better, although Kix warned them that until he woke up, there was the risk that he never would.So while Ashla, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan and Anakin stayed behind to finish the debriefing, Kanan rushed back.

So it was she and Kanan in the room as Kix cut off the medications that were keeping him comatose and added something that he said would make it easier for Ezra waking up.

“Don’t expect total consciousness anytime soon. It could still be days or even weeks until he wakes up fully. This is just making it easier for him to get there, especially now that we think he’s as revered as he’s going to get within the coma,” Kix warned them, and Hera nodded as she clasped Ezra’s hand.

“He’s cold,” She commented.

Kix nodded, adding some notes to his datapad. “In order to preserve brain functionality, we had to induce hypothermia. The bacta tank was kept at a cooler temperature, and you might have noticed his room has always been a bit chilly.”

Behind her, Kanan nodded, resting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing slightly, reassuring her that he was still here. “Thanks, Kix.”

Shaking his head, Kix tucked away his ‘pad. “Thank you, sir. You spread the word about the chips. We’d all be under his command if you hadn’t.”

“None of you deserved that,” Kanan murmured, his eyes fixed on Ezra. Kix just nodded and made his exit, leaving them alone with their unconscious son.

He looked much better than he had the first time Hera had seen him. He was out of that blasted bacta tank, and his color was better, although whether that was because they were finally letting him warm up or because he was genuinely doing better, she didn’t know. 

All she knew was that they’d taken the tube out of his side, and the feeding tube out of his nose, and while he was on oxygen, it was just a cannula. An IV provided him with fluids, but otherwise, he was tube-free. There were still a few wires connecting him to the monitors, but she could live with that. All she needed to know, as Kanan stepped around and rested his hand on Hera’s and Ezra’s, was that her boys were going to be okay.

______

Zeb looked up as Kix entered the waiting room, giving them all a quick nod before collapsing into one of the chairs. “It’s up to him, now.”

He really didn’t like the way the medic had said that, like it was out of their hands and Ashla only knew if he’d wake up, but the sad truth of it was that that was the case. There was no way of knowing, until he showed signs of awareness, whether or not he’d ever wake up. There was still a chance that he wouldn’t.

Zeb’s heart ached at the thought. He still had so much to say to the kid, apologies and reprimands and inside jokes, that he couldn't imagine never getting to tell him. Shifting uncomfortably, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“What’d you say his chances were, again?”

Kix sighed. “Not as bad as they were a few weeks ago. The Jedi healer did a good job—neurologically, it looks like most of the damage has been cleared up, but there’s still some areas that look like they’re not as active as they should be. Force only knows what the effects of that will be.”

Beside him, Rex—the older version—and Kallus both looked disappointed, and Chopper let out a low whistle. So with a huff, he decided he’d have to be the optomistic one. “We’ll be there for him. He’ll make it, he’s too stubborn to let a little thing like potential brain damage slow him down.”

Rex let out a strained laugh, and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. He’ll be fine.”

Chopper chirped something about not playing any pranks on him until he was back on his feet, which was as close to helpful as the droid was going to get, but Kallus was still frowning. Zeb nudged him, raising a questioning eyebrow, and Kallus waved him off.

“Far be it from me to underestimate Bridger. I just don’t want you to be hurt when he doesn’t recover as quickly as you’d like.”

Zeb huffed. “It’s been three weeks, I think it’s been long enough.”

From his chair, Kix sighed. “And it’ll probably be longer. I know this is hard to hear, but this type of injury doesn’t heal overnight. Even his physical wounds will bother him constantly for months, potentially, and that’s not to mention all the physical therapy he’ll need to regain muscle mass. Three weeks in a coma following three days of captivity is no joke. But his neurological wounds, those could bother him for the rest of his life.”

Zeb flattened his ears against his skull, pursing his lips. “How likely is that?”

“Well, ordinarily, I’d say it’s a guarantee, but with the Jedi healing and his own ability to use the Force, I’d say… seventy percent that he won’t ever fully recover? That’s a vast improvement.” Kix said that like it was supposed to be reassuring, but it really wasn’t. Only a thirty percent chance they’d ever get their Ezra back, and that was if he woke up? Zeb growled under his breath.

“And his chances of waking up?” Kallus asked.

Kix sighed. “I’d put that at fifty percent, and dropping every hour he doesn’t wake up.”

This time, Zeb growled out loud, standing and punching the nearby wall. For a minute, he stood there, panting, then he asked, “Have you told Hera this?” Hera and Kanan, but the other three here didn’t know about him, and while Sabine would have gotten his meaning, she was off babysitting Jacen, now that she was out of her hoverchair.

Kix thankfully seemed to understand. “Yeah, she knows. She’s going to be staying with him for the next few hours, but then she needs to sleep.”

“Speaking of,” Rex said, looking firmly at the much younger clone, “you need to sleep as well.”

Shaking his head, Kix made to get out of the chair, saying, “I can’t. I have to check on Ezra, I don’t trust the other doctors not to run tests or look deeper onto his medical file—” He cut himself off when his knees buckled and he fell back into the chair, groaning.

Rex was out of his seat in an instant, hovering over Kix, a look of resignation on his face. “You with me, vod?”

Kix nodded slowly, blinking rapidly like he was trying to clear his vision. “Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Just got a bit dizzy.”

Chopper beeped something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘yeah, right,’ and Zeb agreed with that sentiment. “Kix, you need to rest,” he ordered gruffly. He didn’t know the clone well, but if he had to guess, he’d say this was typical behavior, just going off of Rex’s reaction.

“I’m fine,” Kix tried to insist, but Rex kept him pinned to his seat.

“No, you’re not. Blast it, when was the last time you slept?” Kix opened his mouth to answer, then stopped and shut it, clearly trying to do the math. Rex took that as the answer it was and forced Kix to lay down across the chairs. “Sleep, vod.”

“I’ll go kick Hera out of Ezra’s room in an hour or two,” Zeb reassured him, but Kix didn’t look at all reassured.

“If he wakes up—”

Zeb and Rex both moved to keep him from sitting up, Zeb grabbing his arm as he eased him back down. “It’ll be fine, Kix, we’ll wake you when he wakes up.”

Rex nodded. “Until then, sleep. You need it.”

Kix sighed, but nodded, resting his head back on a seat. “I’m holding you to that,” he muttered, closing his eyes. He was asleep in seconds.

Zeb shook his head at him fondly. “Just as bad as anyone I’ve ever met.”

Rex huffed. “He used to follow orders. Now he’s… grown. He’ll do the right thing regardless of orders, and I couldn't be prouder. On the other hand, that makes him a pain to deal with.”

Chopper whistled something that sounded like, ‘look who’s talking,’ and Zeb nodded.

“At the risk of seeming insensitive,” Kallus interjected, “He’s not wrong. Ezra needs constant monitoring—”

“And Hera has experience from all the times we’ve been banged up,” Zeb cut in. “She’ll be able to tell if something's going wrong, and she’ll comm or hit the call button if it is. She’s been a parent for longer than she’s had Jacen, Kallus. She knows what she’s doing.”

_______

Kanan watched as Hera gently smoothed back Ezra’s hair, running her fingers through it in the soothing way she always did when either of the oldest two kids were sick or injured. “He’s missed you.”

Hera gave him a gentle smile. “And I’ve missed him. I’ve missed both of you, actually.”

Kanan gave her a small smile before sighing and sitting down in the hair she’d abandoned in favor of the edge of Ezra’s bed. “I can’t imagine how hard it was for you, coming back in time and thinking you’d just left two of your kids behind.”

“It was awful,” Hera admitted. “I cried myself to sleep for weeks. All I kept thinking about was the last things I’d said to them, and that it hadn’t been that I love them and that I’m proud of them. I’d hoped, initially, that Sabine would still be waiting for us on Lothal, but…”

“But we’d left by the time you got there,” Kanan finished for her. Frowning, he sat forward. “Hera, we waited as long as we could, over two weeks and you didn’t show. What happened? I never got the full story from Zeb.”

Hera sighed and sat back, wiping a tear out of the corner of her eye. “We were pulled out of hyperspace above Mon Cala when whatever it was pulled us all back in time. There was a battle going on above the planet, and after Rex identified some of the ships as old Republic cruisers still in their prime, and the others as Separatist ships, we figured we’d better side with the Republic, especially seeing as they had Mon Calamari ships fighting beside them.

“After the battle was over and the Republic had won, we stuck around to figure out why Separatist holdouts were attacking Rebel ships, only to discover that it wasn’t Separatist holdouts, or the Rebellion. It was the Republic. After that, we figured it out, but that left us with more questions than answers.”

Hera paused and added sheepishly, “As for why we were late… the  _ Ghost  _ took a hit in the battle. The engines had to be repaired, and it took weeks to buy and scavenge the parts we needed. Thankfully, the Republic ships stationed there were helpful, considering that we’d come to their aid in the battle.”

“You were late because you got clumsy,” Kanan summed up teasingly, and she swatted him on the shoulder.

“I’m sure you took it just fine when you and Sabine figured it out.”

Kanan shifted uncomfortably. “Sabine figured it out. When she told me… I kinda had a panic attack.”

Hera’s face softened and she slid off the bed, moving so she was resting against the arm of Kanan’s seat, and pulled him close. “Oh, love…”

“It sucked,” Kanan said bluntly, “especially since you weren’t there to help ground me. Sabine did her best, and I was able to calm down before I passed out, but still. I missed you more in that moment than I had any moment earlier.”

Hera nodded, understanding softening her face. She looked over at Ezra, keeping her arm around Kanan’s shoulder. “I wonder how he took it.”

“From what Captain Rex told me, not well. He tried to take on a ship full of troopers by himself.”

Hera let out a startled laugh, looking at him incredulously. “Really?” When he nodded, she shook her head in disbelief. “He gets it from you, you know.”

“Pretty sure he gets it from Anakin,” Kanan said honestly, and Hera scowled. “What?”

Sighing, Hera gestured uselessly as she struggled to find the words. “It’s just… We worked so hard to be there for him, and now Skywalker can just waltz in and claim a spot in his life? That doesn't seem right, not after what Vader nearly did to Ezra—and what he did to you and Ahsoka. Ashla. Whatever.”

Kanan huffed a laugh. “You know, Anakin said damn near the same thing before I spelled it out for him that we were his family? He was mad that we could just show up and Ezra would accept us into his life, up until Obi-Wan and I set him straight.”

“What happened?” Hera asked almost reluctantly.

Shrugging, Kanan pulled her into his lap, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. “I explained to him that we had put in the work, just before Anakin had known Ezra existed. But Hera, Anakin put that work in, too. Whether we like it or not, he has a place in Ezra’s life now, too. But he doesn’t see Anakin as a father figure. According to Ahsoka, they see each other more as brothers. And that’s fine by me. Is it okay with you?”

Hera sighed, clearly turning his words over in her head. “Do you think that’ll stay the same when Anakin finds out Ezra is his kid, all grown up?”

Kanan sighed. “I don’t know. But if I need to, I’ll pull him aside and talk to him about it, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Hera nodded slowly. “Sounds good to me, love.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes. Kanan felt odd, like he had the strangest urge to get up and move, but this wasn’t normal anxiety telling him something was wrong, this felt more like anticipation. There was no other way to describe it. Carefully, he eased his way out from under Hera, getting up to pace. She watched him carefully, but after a minute or two, she turned her attention back to Ezra.

“Oh my stars,” she exclaimed suddenly, getting up to lean over Ezra, grabbing his hand gently. “Kanan, I think he’s waking up.”

Kanan was by her side immediately, having no memory of actually crossing the room. Sure enough, Ezra’s breathing was faster, closer to what it was like when he was genuinely asleep, and the beeping of the EKG quickened ever so slightly. Kanan reached out with the Force, and while he was still definitely unconscious, his signature felt stronger, closer to the surface, like he was just waiting for the perfect time to wake up completely.

Kanan let out a heavy sigh of relief. That was good—no, that was great. He was waking up, he was actually—

Kanan remembered himself then and hit the call button, pulling Hera back as a doctor and several nurses bustled into the room.

The Sullustan doctor hovered over the bed, typing up notes on a datapad as the nurses called out numbers. Kanan wasn’t sure what they meant, but he knew what the relieved slump in the female Sullustan’s shoulders meant. He squeezed Hera’s shoulders, smiling in relief as the doctor turned to them.

“Well, he’s out of the coma,” She said, blinking at them in clear astonishment. “Within an hour of being let off the medicines, I might add. Impressive.”

That’s our boy, Kanan thought. Impressively stubborn.

“So he’ll make a full recovery?” Hera asked hopefully.

The doctor hummed. “I can’t say yet. That will depend on how much of his brain function was preserved. But so far, yes, things look optimistic.” She paused and eyed them intently. “Understand that optimistic right now means that he’ll recover enough to be able to function without aid. He will, however, not be exactly how he was before the injuries.”

Kanan and Hera both nodded, watching as the nurses left the room, having replaced his saline drip and made sure he was more comfortable. They’d been coming in every once in a while to shift how Ezra was lying, going from one side to the other to his back periodically, and now he was lying on his right side, facing away from the door.

The doctor took one more long look at her patient before saying, “I honestly didn’t think he’d make it this far. He’s an incredible young man.”

“You have no idea,” Kanan murmured, reclaiming his chair. The doctor smiled and left.

_______

A few hours later, Zeb came up and practically dragged them both out of Ezra’s room. “Go back to the apartment, we’ll take it from here.”

“But Ezra—” Kanan tried, only to be cut off by Zeb raising a hand.

“He’ll be fine for another six hours. I don’t want to see either of you until dawn, alright? Get some rest. Just don’t keep each other up, alright?” Zeb waggled his eyebrows at them, and Kanan had to suppress a groan.

Hera blushed slightly. “Zeb…” she said warningly, and he lifted his hands to defend himself.

“Just making sure we’re all on the same page. I love the kit but we don’t need another for a good long while. Now get moving.” Zeb ushered them out the door, following them to the side door Kanan had used earlier to sneak in and out of the hospital. “Kallus’ll be looking after Ezra, and Sabine, Ashla, and Ahsoka know to drop Jacen off here so one of us can look after him when they get tired. Everything’ll be fine.”

Kanan had to try hard not to tense. It seemed every time someone said something like that, things didn’t turn out ‘fine.’ “I’m not sure, maybe one of us should stay…”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Zeb said, grabbing Kanan by the shoulders to make sure he didn’t try to get back into the hospital. “You’re going to go to the rooms Anakin and Obi-Wan are letting you borrow, and you’re going to get some much needed sleep. Now.”

Hera touched his arm gently. “He’s right, love. Come on, the sooner we go, the sooner we can come back.”

Kanan sighed. “Alright, but the moment he wakes up, call us.”

“I will,” Zeb promised, “but he’s not likely to wake up until sometime late tomorrow. Kix said so.”

“Before or after he passed out?” Kanan snarked, then sighed again. “Still, just… comm us if anything changes?”

“I will,” Zeb promised again. “Now get.”

Kanan nodded and took Hera’s hand, reluctantly walking over toward the speeder he’d been using. Hera looked at him sympathetically, gently knocking shoulders with him as best she could with her smaller stature.

“He’s going to be alright, love,” she promised quietly, and he offered her a small smile.

“I know.”

They got to the speeder, but even as Kanan was swinging his leg over the side of it to hop in, a female voice called from the hospital, “Wait!”

Kanan froze, turning to see a heavily pregnant woman walking toward them. Well, waddling might be a better term, but with her long silky skirt, it was hard to tell. Behind her, hovering by the door they’d just used, were several security guards, and a woman who could have been—probably was—the first woman’s double, except for the pregnant part.

Beside him, Hera looked equally surprised. “Senator Amidala,” she said, stepping down and gracefully inclining her head toward the other woman.

Oh. Oh, Force, this was Ezra’s mother, pregnant with him and only… Kanan did the mental math and blanched. Less than three weeks away from giving birth, if the dates of birth ended up being the same in both timelines. It was quite possible that the stress of Empire Day last time around had sent her into labor early, although, judging by how far along she looked, that might not have been the case. She looked like she should have given birth almost a month ago.

“Padme, please,” the senator insisted. “You must be Ezra’s parents.”

“We are,” Kanan confirmed, narrowing his eyes at Padme. Not that he didn’t trust her—on the contrary, she was one of the few politicians he actually believed to be a good person—but he wasn’t sure what she was doing here.

Padme smiled wryly. “Well, I guess I am too, but I think I have far less of a claim to that title than you two do.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kanan exchanged a look with Hera. “You know? I know Ashla said you’d figured out about her, but I didn’t realize…”

“Anakin called me one day and asked if I thought Ezra looked like Anakin’s mother. When I asked why, he said he thought the two of them were related,” Padme explained. “Then when Ahsoka—Ashla—showed up, giving me evidence she couldn't have found unless she knew what she was looking for… I knew. I knew that if she was from the future, then Ezra was too, given that she mentioned him, and if he was from the future and related to Anakin, then….”

Hera nodded. “I know that must be hard, knowing your son grew up without you, but it’s his choice as to whether or not you get a role in his life from here on out. We can't make that decision for him.”

Padme looked almost relieved. “Good. I want that choice to be up to him. And to be honest, as much as I’d love to get to know him better, I’m not sure how to treat him, or what to even say to him, especially since—” she gestured to her midsection like that explained everything, and Kanan huffed.

“Yeah, you’re about to have your hands full.”

Padme laughed. “Oh, you have no idea.” Turning to Hera, she said, “If you ever want to talk, here’s my frequency. It’ll be nice having another mother I can talk to.”

Hera nodded and accepted the offered card. “Thank you, Senator.”

“Padme,” she reminded her before offering her hand to Kanan for him to shake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Master Jarrus.”

He took her hand gratefully, glad the conversation hadn’t gotten too awkward. “The pleasure was all mine.” He winked at her for good measure, and Padme died laughing while Hera smacked him on the shoulder.

“She’s married, Kanan.”

“I know,” he responded as the senator went back into the hospital. “But so am I.” He grinned at her, blushing slightly as she raised an eyebrow. “You added me to your kalikori, remember?”

“Right,” Hera said, blushing more than he was. “I didn’t think you knew about that.”

Gently, he brushed her cheek with a hand. “I was there,” he said quietly. “The whole time, I was right there with you.”

Hera stared at him for a moment before shaking herself. “You’re going to have to explain that one later. After we get some sleep.”

Kanan nodded, and together, they headed off into the Coruscanti night.

_______

Sabine shifted Jacen up onto her hip more securely, gesturing at the ship in front of them with one hand. “Ahsoka, this is the  _ Ghost. _ Our base of operations-slash-home. What do you think?”

“It’s impressive,” Ahsoka said, looking it over with wide eyes. “I take it it’s been modified?”

Beside her, Ashla snorted. “Just a little bit. My pilot nearly had a heart attack when he saw some of the readouts that first time I was on board.”

Sabine laughed, gently pulling Jacen’s hand away from her hair. “Yeah, Hera’s done a lot of work on her. But I don’t think we’d have survived as long as we have without that.”

Ahsoka bounced on her heels. “So, do I get the grand tour?”

“Yeah,” Sabine said, jerking her head away from Jacen’s hands. He had been fascinated by her hair ever since she’d first met him. Maybe it was the bright colors, maybe it was the fact that it was longer than just about anyone else’s that he’d met. Either way, it was cute, if a little annoying. “Just let me—Jacen, stop, that hurts—”

Ashla came to the rescue, taking Jacen away from her and cradling him against her chest. “I’ve got him, you show Ahsoka around.”

Sabine grinned and grabbed Ahsoka’s hand, pulling her into a run as they made their way up the ramp. Behind them, she could hear Ashla talking to Jacen in a gentle tone of voice, and she grinned. “Ashla’s good with him,” she noted.

“She’s definitely better than I am with babies,” Ahsoka said wryly. “Last couple of babies I held I was rescuing from Mustafar, and they did not like me.”

Laughing, Sabine gestured around her. “This is the cargo bay, obviously.” The crates scattered around the space kind of gave that away. “Now, up here,” she said, putting her hand on the ladder, “This is where the fun is.”

As they climbed, Sabine pointed out the nose gun, saying, “That’s one of Ezra’s favorite places on the ship. He’ll go there when he wants peace and quiet.”

“In other words,” Ahsoka said, as they pulled themselves up into the cockpit, “Don’t prank him while he’s in there.”

“Precisely.”

From there, Sabine showed Ahsoka around the cockpit, to the bedrooms, and to the common room and kitchen. Ahsoka thought it was hilarious that Zeb and Ezra shared a room, and weird that Kanan and Hera didn’t.

“Aren’t they, like, married?” She asked, her face scrunched in confusion.

Laughing, Sabine gestured to the crash couch. “I think they are, by Twi’lek traditions. Hera added him to her kalikori. But that was after he died, and I don’t think he’s been back to the  _ Ghost  _ since then. This is the first time I’ve been back,” she added, and Ahsoka pressed lips together in a firm line as she sat.

“That sucks. I’d hate not to be able to go home for over a year.”

With a slight nod, Sabine leaned against the back of the couch. “Where’s home for you? The Temple?”

“And the  _ Resolute,” _ Ahsoka said, turning as if she’d heard something. “That’s odd.”

“What?”

Ahsoka turned back to her, looking bemused. “I’m not sure, but something just changed. Ashla feels relieved.”

Standing, Sabine turned to leave. “It must be news about Ezra.”

“Must be.”

Together, they hurried into the cockpit and slid down the ladder into the cargo hold. Ashla was waiting for them at the base of the ship’s ramp, holocom in hand, looking more relaxed than she had in almost half a month, even though Jacen was holding one of her lekku, probably gripping it too tightly.

“Ezra’s out of the coma,” She said, and Sabine felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

“Thank the Force,” she and Ahsoka muttered at the same time, then looked at each other with half grins. “Jinx,” Sabine said, forcing levity into her tone.

Ahsoka’s grin broadened a bit, then she turned back to Ashla. “Can we go see him?”

Ashla shook her head. “No, Kallus is with him at the moment, and we need to rest. We’ll go sit with him after we’ve slept.You both need rest.”

As Ahsoka made a small sound of protest, Sabine nodded. “Okay. But you told them to keep us updated, right?”

“Of course.” Ashla beckoned them over to the Phantom II, and the two younger women exchanged matching smirks before racing past her to the shuttle.


End file.
